Non Omnis Moriar
by d'Anima
Summary: Unfortunately, no one ever guessed that Hisana had inherited her illness...and that someone else had inherited it too.
1. Chapter 1

_**Nom Omnis Moriar**_

_**Word Count: **__2,148_

_**Rating: **__T for language and themes_

_**Spoilers: **__Some for Soul Society Arc._

_**Author's Note: **__Oh, dear. I don't think this endeavour is going to end well. Last time I tried a chapter fic...well, it's still unfinished. For now. Anyway, please read, review, point out spelling mistakes, all that jazz. Too short? I think so. Maybe. Hm._

_**Disclaimer: **__I, in no way, shape or form, own Bleach or any affiliated characters. Unfortunately._

* * *

If Byakuya had known how little time was left, perhaps he would have used it a little more wisely. Perhaps he would have made each moment matter before the days whittled by and the voracious hands of Death claimed its victim and froze time forever in its place. Perhaps he would have stopped it.

But he didn't know how little time was left.

None of them did.

* * *

_And in the midst of our lives we die._

Time, it seemed to Rukia, was like a handful of sand. It wasn't that it was made up of thousands of tiny segments (although admittedly, it was) or that, given enough of it, it could wear away even the hardest cliff-face (althought admittedly, it could) or even that it was dry, coarse and grainy, and sometimes got stuck in your toes and then later you'd find it in your hair and you'd never be able to get it out of your clothes and - well, admittedly, it wasn't like that at all.

Time was like a handful of sand because the tighter you grasped it the quicker it ran through your fingers. She had done her fair share of grasping. The days in that forsaken tower had slipped by far too quickly; their insidious nights melting into dawn before she had a chance to realise it, preying upon -

"Oi!"

So much for internal analogies.

Rukia gritted her teeth and leaned forward onto her hands and knees, peering over the edge of the Kurosaki household's roof to see a very disgruntled boy leaning out of his window and peering back at her.

"What the hell are you doing up there? Yuzu's been calling you for dinner. It's cold. And it's getting dark. And what the hell are you doing on my roof anyway?" Ichigo scowled and involuntarily leant a little less out of the window. He readied himself to make a run for it if all hell broke loose. He couldn't help but think that her new vantage point and lack of time-keeping were perhaps precursors to the implosion of her brain.

"You just asked me that." Rukia batted at his head and contemplated momentarily how amusing it would be if she could knock him out of the window. "I've been ruminating on things. And you interrupted me! Besides," she muttered indignantly, "it's almost spring." She settled back and gazed wistfully at the molten remains of the sun. "I want time to go faster."

"What are you warbling about?" Ichigo tightened his grip on the windowsill and tried to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. "And what sort of word is ruminating? And why do you look tired?"

_And in the midst of our lives we die._

"Enough with the questions, Ichigo! I look tired becauseI _am_ tired. And ruminating is a wonderful sort of word! It came seventh in the list of The Best All-Round Verbs Of All Time That Start With The Letter R." Ichigo stared at her incredulously. "Who the hell made up that crap contest?"

"I did."

Ah. Of course she did. "Stop losing your mind and come have some dinner! Or I'll go without you and tell them you drowned!"

Rukia snarled and pushed herself off the roof, diving feet-first through the window in a maneouvre Indiana Jones would have been proud of and smacking Ichigo in the face as she went. He fell over with a squawk. Result! "Fine, fine." She brushed herself down and stepped daintily over his prone body. "I'm going to eat all of yours - "

She was interrupted by the beeping of her cell phone. "Ichigo! A hollow!" She said and quickly scanned the radar. "Not far from here."

"Not now..." Ichigo groaned, but he was already reaching for Kon. Looked like he'd be missing out on dinner anyway. The fluffy little bastard would enjoy it for him, he was sure of it. Rukia grinned and leapt nimbly from his window into the blossoming darkness. "This way, idiot. And hurry up!"

"Oi, Rukia!" He yelled and half-fell out the window after her. He knew what she meant, though. Spring _was _coming. And in his opinion, it couldn't come fast enough. It had been a long winter. Too long. Spring would be a reminder of the life in the world, of the unrelenting hope that there were indeed things better and brighter than cold, moonless nights and dead trees and dead souls and dead beliefs. He caught up to her as she came to halt on a neighbouring rooftop. He motioned to the lumbering hollow with his sword. "I'll handle this one alone. Since you're so _tired._" Rukia sniffed and stepped in front of him. "Don't be ridiculous. I'll bet you 1000 yen I'll take care of it in less than 30 seconds."

"It'll be my money anyway."

"You just know I can do it!"

"Fine!" Ichigo swore and rolled out of the way as the hollow, apparently angry from lack of attention, flung itself towards him. It sat back on its haunches and snarled. "Your time started 10 seconds ago!"

"Idiot," Rukia muttered, and drew her sword. The hollow turned and leapt at her. She jumped above it and turned in mid-air to counter-attack. _Too slow, _she realised, as it lurched out of the way and she had to adjust her landing.

"C'mon, Rukia, I didn't know you had gotten so weak." Ichigo drawled and leaned on his sword.

"Be quiet!" She pivoted and arced her zanpakuto across the hollow's head, already knowing it wasn't strong enough to do any significant damage. "Too shallow!" Ichigo yelled. "Put some effort into it!"

_And in the midst of our lives we die. _

"Shut _up!" _Rukia's reiatsu flared. She gripped Sode no Shirayuki with both hands and brought the sword down, carving the hollow's mask in two. "Finally," Ichigo said, and stretched. "But that was way longer than 30 seconds." He frowned when Rukia dropped her sword and, shaking, sank to her knees. "Oi. Oi, what's wrong?" He was at her side in an instant, placing one hand on her trembling back "What is it?"

She struggled to get her breathing under control and weakly pushed his hand away. She shook her head. "I'm ok," she mumbled, and pushed herself to her feet. Instinctively, Ichigo put his arms out to steady her, and caught her when her knees buckled and she collapsed into him. "Doesn't look like it," he muttered, and slung one arm around her waist. "You're exhausted. C'mon. I'm taking you to Urahara's."

* * *

"Ah, Kuchiki-san...don't you look lovely, as always?"

"Be quiet, shopkeeper..." Rukia sighed as Ichigo helped her onto a cushion opposite Urahara and took a seat next to her.

"My, my..." Urahara beamed and fanned his face languidly, eyeing the two with a vague fascination. "And what seems to be the problem today? Too many late nights staying up gossipping and whispering sweet nothings?" He snapped his fan shut and lowered his voice. "Or something more serious?"

Ichigo leaned forward. "She had trouble fighting a hollow earlier. It was a weak one, but she got tired, and...well," he gestured to Rukia, "Something must be wrong with her."

Urahara flipped his fan open again and gave a cry of dismay. "I hope you aren't suggesting that my products are faulty!"

"She wasn't in her gigai. Why?" Ichigo frowned. "Is there something wrong with it?" He clenched his fists and stole a sideways glance at Rukia. "There has been before."

She slowly turned her head to look at him but said nothing.

"Now, now, Kurosaki-san, I thought we had put that little incident behind us! I have offered my most humble apologies to both you and Kuchiki-san. I assure you - "

" - Should I get Inoue?"

Urahara sighed and slowly got to his feet. As much as he was fond of Ichigo, he always rushed into things too quickly for his own good. Stubborn and hard-headed, just like his father. He yawned and stretched. "There's no need." He waved his fan at Rukia. "There's nothing wrong with her."

_And in the midst of our lives we die._

"But - "

"I can tell just by looking at her. Take her home and let her sleep."

"Urahara, I - "

"Ichigo." Rukia's voice stopped him mid sentence. She nodded once. "He's right, Ichigo. I'm alright."

He looked from her to Urahara tersely. "Fine," he said, and relented. "Let's go home."

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Urahara clapped his hands in delight. "Hurry home then. And don't stay up too late!" Ichigo glared back at him as Rukia carefully stood and walked slowly out the front door of the Urahara Shop. He turned and followed her wordlessly.

"Hey, Kisuke." Yoiruichi appeared behind the shopkeeper and raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?"

"Nothing, Yoruichi-san. A friendly visit, that's all." Urahara smiled over his shoulder at her. "Not as enjoyable as one from you, of course. Shall I fetch some milk?"

* * *

As it turns out, Rukia wasn't alright.

At all.

"Kuchiki-san? What do you think of my 'Plan For The Future'?" Orihime's face loomed in Rukia's vision. "Ahem: In the year 3080, Hamlet, the crown prince of Denmark, comes to the United States where he meets the sassy and streetwise Inoue Orihime! There they team up to rob banks and people and do bad things! Then they have to change their names to Bonnie and Clyde because the police and the CIA are following them! And then - "

"It sounds lovely, Inoue." Rukia gave her a slight smile. "And I only wrote - " Stiffening, she stopped and tried to focus on what she was saying instead of the consuming exhaustion creeping over her. "I wrote..."

_And in the midst of our lives we die._

"Kuchiki...-san?" Orihime tilted her head to one side and was about to speak again when Ochi-sensei skulked into the classroom and grinned devilishly at her students. "Now then, eager young minds. I know you're all itching for an English test!"

Rukia smiled at Orihime and shook her head, inwardly glad at the distraction. "I'm fine," she mouthed to her friend, hoping Orihime would believe her when she couldn't even believe herself. She breathed as carefully and as deliberately as she could, and resolutely kept her gaze from straying to the other side of the room, where she knew Ichigo would be watching her.

* * *

He knew he shouldn't have been surprised when he returned to his room after dinner, silently gloating that Kon missed the best meal of the week, and found a scribbled note on his desk with another horribly drawn image of himself.

"What's that?" Kon scrambled onto his shoulder and peered at the letter. "It's from Nee-san!"

"Mm." Ichigo sighed and tossed it back onto his desk. "She's gone back to Soul Society to check something out. Said she wouldn't be long." He knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. He stretched out on his bed and rested his head on his arms. "I thought she might've told me first..."

"Oi! Where's my picture?" Kon hopped onto the desk and picked the letter up. "Ah...Nee-san gets more talented by the day!" Ichigo didn't answer, and instead rolled onto his side and glared at the wall. Moonlight flickered through his window, trapped by windblown branches that were just beginning to get their leaves. If he had known how little time was left, he would have done things differently. A lot differently. But he didn't know. He had no idea.

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. _What is she thinking?_

* * *

Unohana Retsu had little reason to doubt her suspicions when Byakuya's sister requested an audience with her and asked to be examined. Shinigami didn't often become ill. Their immune systems were exceptional compared to humans and ordinary souls, and it had to be remarkable circumstances to give them any trouble. So Unohana went through the motions of questioning and examining Rukia, letting her reiatsu trickle through her, seeking the root of the problem, all the while going over in her mind exactly how Kuchiki Hisana had looked before she died.

A familiar presence tugged at her senses, and she left Rukia sitting in one of the examination rooms and stepped outside to greet Byakuya. She smiled politely at him. "Kuchiki-taicho. It's fortunate that you've arrived."

Byakuya's gaze flicked to Rukia, sitting on the edge of the white bed, gazing distantly at her hands clasped on her lap. "I was informed by one of your subordinates. What is wrong with her?"

Delivering bad news was never an easy task. The 4th Division Captain sighed deeply. "I'm truly sorry, Kuchiki-taicho, but I presume you have already guessed, as had I. Your sister is ill."

_And in the midst of our lives -_

Byakuya kept his eyes on Rukia, but Unohana felt the flutter of his reiatsu and her heart wrenched. "I know what you're thinking." She said, slowly, evenly, carefully. "And yes, we have seen this disease before."

He said nothing.

"Your late wife lasted only a few months. I hope I can give your sister more."

_- We die._

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__So, hm, not a lot to say here. There'll be a few things to clear up later on, but for now I think it's pretty straightforward. First time doing a chapter fic in a very, very long time, so forgive me for possibly horrific structure. As for updating? Well, a review would help, very much so! I actually need a whole lot of help with this. I'm not asking for critique, as that implies I think it's worthy of being rated. I'm asking for constructive, intelligent help. So please do review and tell me what you thought. Thanks a lot for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **__Oh my giddy aunt. Thank you so much for all your reviews and favourites and alerts! I had no idea people would like this. It's a little scary actually, because now I actually _do _have to write something, instead of just updating when and what I feel like. So, I hope you like it, and please continue to review! _

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya was a patient man. When a life spanned centuries, he tended to find that one day, even one year, meant little. All things came with time, and he could wait. He _did _wait. He was a patient man.

All his life he had never feared time. Even on the day his wife died. Perhaps it was because he was naive. Perhaps if he knew that would be the day, if he had realised how thin her wrists had become, or how she couldn't find the strength to sit up or speak to him, perhaps he would have feared time. But he continued to believe that the day would always be some other day, that it wouldn't be _this _day, that it didn't exist. While there was life, there was hope.

With Hisana, he had hope. But this time was the second time, after the practice round, and he knew the rules and his way around the court and he knew Death would be the victor. He knew what he was waiting for. He could see what time would bring. And he had no power to change it.

He feared that.

* * *

When he spoke, his voice was smooth, even and controlled. Inwardly, he praised himself for it.

"I expect she will return home once you are finished here."

"Kuchiki-taicho," Unohana kept smiling and tried not to disclose her concern. "It would be kinder on your sister if you were to tell her of the disease." She matched his steel gaze with her own. "And there are things we need to discuss - things to organise about her treatment."

"There is nothing to discuss. Tell her what you wish." Byakuya looked once at Rukia, then at Unohana, and then stepped quietly past her and walked down the hall, wondering if she could tell his fear from the uneven fall of his footsteps.

Unohana sighed and pushed open the door. "Kuchiki-san?" She called softly. "I'm sorry about that interruption."

"Nii-...Kuchiki-taichou was here, wasn't he?" Rukia raised her head to look at her. "Why did he come?"

"Your brother came to make sure you were all right, that's all. Rukia-san," she said warmly, and still her smile never faltered, "you're quite ill." Rukia frowned a little and got to her feet. "Actually, Unohana-taicho, I'm feeling much better than I did yesterday. I think - "

"Please sit down, Rukia-san." And the force behind her gentle words told her she must. "You're feeling better because you are rested. As soon as you exert yourself again, you'll feel much worse. And over time you will get weaker." Unohana sat beside her and placed her hand over Rukias'. "Are you aware that your sister, Hisana-san, died of an illness?"

"Hisana...?" Rukia echoed, and the mention of the sister she didn't often think of muddled her thoughts and covered them in so much confusion that for a moment she wasn't sure if she had heard her correctly. "Well...I..." _Clear. Logical. Organise your thoughts. _"I know she was very sick. And that she died five years after she married Nii-sama."

"That's right. We didn't know why she became ill. But the disease had a very distinct signature that left a mark upon her soul. And I can feel it on you as well, Rukia-san. I believe it has been inherited."

"I'm...sick?" Rukia felt the murk cling to her thoughts again, and she wondered if she had lost so much brain function that all she could do was repeat words like a dull parrot and speak incoherently.

"Yes, Rukia-san, you are."

"But - " It felt like a hand was reaching up from her throat to choke her words. She wrung her hands together, pressing her fingernails into her palms until her knuckles turned white and she realised she'd have to stop before her palms bled. "Hisana...died."

"Yes, she did," and Unohana wished again that Byakuya was there to speak to her, "but you are stronger than she was, and we will do everything that we can to take care of you." When Rukia didn't answer, she patted her hand and sat back.

"Now," she said, and smiled again, "we'll need to discuss your treatment."

* * *

It was well past anything that could remotely be called twilight when Rukia returned to the Kuchiki mansion. Byakuya felt her reiatsu enter the grounds, move slowly toward his room, and then pause outside the door. He rested his calligraphy brush on the ink stone and pushed another ruined study of Wang Xizhi away from him. He watched the ink dry on the paper and thought of his grandfather. _'The brush writes a statement about the calligrapher at a moment in time. You must clear your heart of disturbances and focus only on the meaning of the character. The slightest lack of confidence will destroy it.'_

"Nii-sama?" Rukia said softly, and tapped on the door. Byakuya said nothing and waited. "Nii-sama, I..." She hesitantly slid open the door and knelt on the ground. "Forgive me for interrupting your work, Nii-sama." She kept her eyes on the floor. "Unohana-taicho suggested I ask you about Hisana-san. She said - "

"It's late, Rukia." Byakuya didn't turn around, and instead selected another piece of paper. "You need rest."

"I - of course." Rukia stammered and quickly got to her feet. The choking hand was back. "Uh - forgive me for intruding at this late hour. Goodnight, nii-sama." Without waiting for a reply she bowed her head and backed out of the room, shutting the door after her.

He listened to her footsteps grow quieter, and in the darkness he heard her coughing.

_Clear your heart._

* * *

"Ichigo...Ichigooo...._Ichigo!" _Kon bellowed and threw himself at Ichigo's nose. Reflexively, he sat up, grabbed him, and hurled him across the room in about half a second. He blinked. "Kon?" Then he glanced at the clock and groaned. "It's not even five..." He fell back on his bed and rolled onto his side. "I'm going back to sleep. Now shut the hell up."

"Ichigo!" Kon leapt at him again. "Don't - " His words were cut off with a squawk as Ichigo's hand shot out from under his blanket and squeezed his throat. "Shut _up, _Kon."

"But," He said in a strangled voice and clawed at Ichigo's hand, "Nee-san isn't back yet."

"Is this what this is about? Is that why you woke me up?" Ichigo tossed him on the floor and tugged on his blanket. "Go to sleep." He sighed when Kon started mewling. "She's only been gone a few days. She's fine."

Kon sniffed. "Is she?"

"Yeah." He slowly opened his eyes. He was silent for a long time. "I think so...I don't know."

"I miss her!"

He didn't answer, and instead rolled onto his back and glared at the ceiling, cursing the inventor of seasons and wondering what the hell was the point in spring when Rukia wasn't even there.

He lay awake for what seemed like hours, until he checked his clock and realised just two things: one; only twenty minutes had passed, and two; his left foot had gone to sleep. "Screw it," he muttered, and hauled himself to his feet. "Nnrgh!" He yelped, and promptly fell over. _Forgot about the foot. _He dragged himself back up, willed his toes back to life, stepped on Kon as he made his way to his closet, got changed and headed outside.

The cherry trees had flowered early this year and their limbs hung heavy with blossoms, the tips brushing his head as he walked down the street and wondered just how many petals he'd have in his hair by the time he got to Urahara's. The warm, humid air amplified the heady scent of the trees and the night-scented stock and whatever the other plants were in the neighbours' gardens that he didn't know the names of.

He was just about to knock on the door of the Urahara Shop when it slid open. "Uh - " He heard a quiet cough and looked down to see Ururu blinking at him. "Oh. Ururu. Uh, you start early."

Ururu nodded mutely.

"Uh...is Urahara in?"

She nodded again.

"Uh..."

"My, my, Ururu, don't make our visitor stand outside all morning." Urahara appeared behind her and patted her head. "Good morning, Kurosaki-san. I didn't know you were an early riser."

Ichigo growled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm not. I'm just here..." He trailed off, wondering exactly just _why _he was there. "Well..."

"You're wondering if I've heard anything about Kuchiki-san?" Urahara asked, and put his hand on Ichigo's shoulder to nudge him inside. "Come in, come in."

"Y-yeah." He hunched his shoulders further forward and followed him in. "Have you?"

Urahara settled himself on a cushion and motioned for Ichigo to do the same. "I haven't. However, Yoruichi-san has."

"Yoruichi-san? Is she here?"

"Mm, she is." Yoruichi spoke from the doorway. She stepped further into the room and rested one hand on her hip. "Yo, Ichigo."

"Uh, hey." He rubbed the back of his head and focused on the grain of the table. He ran his finger along the lines. "So what've you heard?"

She sighed and dropped onto a cushion, crossing her legs and resting her chin on one hand. "It's something you need to hear from Kuchiki herself. If she wants to tell you."

"If she wants to tell me...? Why wouldn't she tell me?" Ichigo's reiatsu rose with his uneasiness. "What happened?"

"Calm down," Yoruichi snarled, and pushed her own spiritual pressure onto him to get him to focus. "There's nothing to worry about. Well...whatever." She stretched and yawned. "Everyone'll find out somehow. You'll know sooner or later. Now, I'm hungry. Don't do anything stupid, Ichigo." She got to her feet and ambled out the door. Urahara watched her go.

"Urahara-san, I need you to open a senkai gate."

* * *

Ukitake met Renji on his way to the 6th division headquarters. "Ukitake-taicho," Renji nodded in greeting as he stepped past him. "Abarai-fukutaicho," Ukitake started, and looked back at him. Renji stopped and turned around. "Hm?"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, for Kuchiki's sake. I know you're close to her."

"Uh, what are you sorry for?"

Ukitake smiled grimly. "I know it's nothing we've caused, but," he gestured to himself, " it is hard. Is Kuchiki-taicho in his office? I need to see how it's going to affect her work."

"How's...what going to affect her work?" Renji blinked a couple of times and shifted to face Ukitake more, who frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, Abarai. I assumed you knew."

"Knew what? ...Ukitake-taicho, _knew what?"_

He glanced back in the direction of Byakuya's office. "Well...it's not my place to say, but I suppose it's my fault for mentioning it!" He rubbed his head and smiled ruefully. "Kuchiki's been taken ill. Unohana-taichou said it was quite serious."

Renji finally understood what people meant when they said it felt like the bottom of their stomach had dropped out.

_"What?"_

* * *

Rukia counted herself lucky she didn't already have a headache before Renji burst into her room yelling incoherently and looking wildly around the room for her. "Over here, Renji," she called from another doorway.

A warbled "_RUKIA!" _was all she could make out before he smacked his fist on top of her head and doubled over to catch his breath.

"What the hell was that for, you fool!?" She held her head protectively and glared at him. He flapped his hand at her, still gasping, before finally straightening up. "I just - I heard - " He took a few more deep breaths. "And I ran - all the way - " He stopped and blinked. "Hey...you don't look very sick! A-ha!" He clamped his hand on her head again and peered down to her level. "You've been putting it on, haven't you? Man, Rukia, I never thought you'd be the one to skive off work..."

"I'm not, Renji." She batted his hand away. "I _am _sick."

He felt his stomach abandon him again. "But - you're not - "

"It was only just diagnosed."

"How bad is it?" Her halting silence gave him his answer. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was getting to it!" She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. "I've had a lot to do these past few days. Besides, it's not like I _didn't _tell you. Unohana-taichou informed Nii-sama, my division and a few others." Her face softened. "It's ok, Renji. I'm fighting it."

His face broke into a smile. "That's good to hear." His grin widened and he told himself that it wasn't the time. "Don't give in to it, Rukia! We've gotten through worse things than a disease!"

"Of course." She huffed indignantly. "You didn't think I would, did you?"

He responded by whacking her on the head again. "Who knows? Maybe it's affecting your brain. I wonder if you'll turn into an idiot..."

"That's you, Renji."

* * *

Time destroyed the moon. It whittled away the edges of it, carving pieces off each night until it was nothing more than a desperate gouge against the dark sky. Rukia stood among the garden's lillies and watched it march slowly to its death.

_It's waning, _she thought, and that simple act of nature incited fear to grip at her heart like a vice.

She counted time by the passage of that moon as it moved timidly through the night, choked occassionally by thick, haphazard clouds that sulked slowly on the wind. It seemed to get brighter each night, as if its shine tried to wretchedly make up for its dwindling size.

It wasn't until morning, when she had been standing there for hours and her legs were stiff and she was impossibly tired and she couldn't even remember why she came to be there in the first place that she realised she hadn't been completely right.

Time did destroy the moon. It _was_ dying.

But given enough time, it came back to life.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__So again, thanks so much for reading! I really do appreciate all of you. You're wonderful. Please continue to give help and advice. Thanks a lot!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **__Anyone else really, really liking Bleach at the moment? Finally get to see what everyone's up to Hueco Mundo, Ichigo's going to kick some arse, and I actually like the anime's filler arc. Happy days! I must say, it's making it easier to write. Thanks to all those who have reviewed. Please continue to do so with your comments and criticism and spelling mistakes/grammar mistakes/really bad plot holes. _

* * *

There was a broken clock in the Kuchiki manor.

Byakuya wasn't sure exactly when it had stopped working. It was an old wadokei mechanism, and he noticed in passing one day that its weights hadn't been adjusted. He made a mental note to tell one of his servants to fix it. He passed it again the next day, and noted that it was running even slower, and wondered why it still hadn't been repaired.

As the days grew longer he found himself drawn to that clock as it steadily wound down to its impending death, but with spring came the news of his sister's illness, and thoughts of the broken clock were forgotten.

He was leaving his manor one morning to see how Rukia's treatment was going when a nagging feeling tugged at the back of his mind. He retraced his steps until he came to a quiet room overlooking the east garden. An eerily quiet room.

Upon inspection of the room he found that the quiet came from the broken clock, sitting silently on a shelf. It had stopped working entirely, its indicator frozen dead on sunrise, the sign of the hare.

* * *

Ichigo had never really been one for positive thinking. He didn't buy all that crap about mantras and self-affirmation and power words, and he certainly didn't stand in front of his bathroom mirror each morning telling himself he was beautiful, healthy and prosperous. The closest he had gotten to repetition was rote learning his times tables when he was seven. Still, he wasn't completely cut off to the idea. Say something enough and you start to believe it.

He found her standing with Renji on a footbridge crossing one of the ponds in Byakuya's garden. She felt his reiatsu before Renji did. She started and turned quickly to face him. He wasn't sure what he saw in her eyes - happiness, regret, fear? He stopped at the base of the bridge and crossed his arms. "Oi, Rukia."

Renji turned at the sound of his voice. "Ichigo? Hey, haven't seen you in a while." He leaned on the bridge's railing and grinned. "What's up?"

"Yo, Renji. I'm here to talk to Rukia." He shifted his attention back to her as she regarded him silently. "I hadn't heard from you in a while. What have you been doing?"

The smile on Renji's face vanished and he glanced at Rukia. "I should get back to work, " he murmured. "Uh - good luck." He walked past Ichigo, giving only a fleeting glance in his direction before quickly leaving the manor's grounds. Ichigo turned to watch him go and then looked back at Rukia. "What was that about?"

"Ichigo," she said quietly, and the sound of her voice startled him. "I..." She sighed heavily, all the breath going out of her, and she turned to lean on the railing and stare into the water. He took a few steps towards her. "Yoruichi-san said there was something...well, something that happened. She said I should hear it from you."

She was silent for some time, knotting her hands together and thinking. "Ichigo," she said finally, her voice still soft, "you know that I had a sister, don't you?"

He struggled to remember the name and what he knew of her. "Hisana-san? ...She married Byakuya."

"Yes, that's right." A ghost of a smile flitted across her face. She found it easier to speak now that she had started. Her mind started ticking over the path of the conversation, a delicate dance of offers and responses, of submission and acceptance. _Tread carefully, _she warned herself.

"Hisana became ill not long after she married Nii-sama. That's why she died."

Ichigo remained silent, waiting for her to continue. She opened her mouth to speak, but what came out was not words but a violent, racking cough. She clutched her hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, leaning more heavily on the railing. "Oi!" Ichigo said in alarm, and he took a few more steps towards her and reached out his hand. "Oi, what's wrong?"

When she was sure she could breathe properly she took her hand from her mouth and rubbed her head, pushing back limp strands of hair from her face. She glanced sideways at Ichigo, her cheeks flushed.

"Rukia - "

"Come on," she said softly, her voice raspy and uneven. She pushed herself off the railing and walked carefully past him, tugging on his sleeve as she went. He followed her, dumbfounded, as she left the manor and began walking through Sereitei's streets. "Rukia. Hey!" He called, and grabbed her hand. She spun to face him.

"What the hell was that? Rukia, what's wrong with you?" He frowned a little and let go of her hand. "Are you sick?"

She sighed frustratedly. "Of course I am, you idiot! Don't be so dense!"

"You...are?"

"Yes!"

"What - "

"I have the same illness as my sister!"

"But - "

"I'm dying from it!" She understood that this wasn't exactly treading carefully for the poor guy. Oh well. She was prepared for a little disagreement. What she wasn't prepared for was to be shouted at.

"Who the hell told you that!? You're not dying, you stupid little moron!" Ichigo had been raised to know that yelling at a sick person was really, really bad form. But surely it would be ok if the sick person had started yelling first?

"Unohana-taicho diagnosed it. Ichigo - "

"They don't know that it's the same one." He snapped, and crossed his arms. "What if it's just a cold or something? You're not dying."

Rukia sighed and pressed her palm to her forehead, closing her eyes momentarily. "It had the same effect on Hisana's reiryoku as it has on mine. Unohana-taicho said it was inherited. They expect me to live until summer, at least...so that's good." When she opened her eyes again they met Ichigo's, and in them he saw only an exhausted truth.

He felt his heart twist in upon itself with the subconscious realisation that denial was in vain. He had an all-consuming urge to back away from her and go home, crawl back to his bed and start that day all over again; he just had to go back to sleep and he was sure, damn sure that this was one of those cliché nightmare situations that he would wake up from and it would be ok and if he could just go back to sleep and start the day over then -

"Ichigo." His name in her voice wrenched him back to reality and he focused on it, grounding himself in the familiarity and the surety he heard in its resonance. The only problem was, he didn't think he wanted to be in that reality.

He saw her then as if for the first time; thinner than he remembered (was that possible?) and tired, so _tired_, and she was the same Rukia but still far from it, and it scared the hell out of him.

And her eyes; her eyes were different. He couldn't remember them being so dark.

Somehow, he found his voice. "...I refuse to accept that. Rukia, you're stronger than your sister was...you're a shinigami. You're not going to die."

Say something enough and you start to believe it.

She regarded him silently, but a slight smile formed on her face. "That's just like you, Ichigo," she whispered, almost to herself. They were silent for a while, each watching the other, then she tilted her head back and looked at the sky. "I'm going home now. I need to see Unohana-taicho."

Ichigo nodded. "I'll come with you. I want to talk to her myself."

"Ichigo," she said warningly, "stop it. You don't need to be here."

He bristled at that. "Are you telling me to leave?"

"I didn't say that! But are you going to stay here for weeks, or months, until - " She broke off as he scowled at her, his eyes daring her to say it. "This isn't your home. You have people you need to look after."

_That's what I'm trying to do. _"If you want me to go," he narrowed his eyes even more, "then say so."

She was silent, and he couldn't help but smile. "So how come it took me to come all the way here before you told me?"

"I've been busy," she replied, and started wandering back towards the Kuchiki manor, deliberately forgetting that she had used the same excuse on Renji. "You weren't a priority."

"Not a priority?" Ichigo grunted, and laced his fingers together behind his head. He ambled after her. "Thanks a lot."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"So what _did _you mean it like?"

"Well...you weren't a _top _priority. Besides, that would have involved going back to the living world, and Nii-sama wouldn't have let me do that. I knew you'd come eventually."

"Hey, how _is_ Byakuya taking it?"

Rukia's steps faltered a little, but she kept her eyes ahead of her. "As a noble should. With dignity."

Ichigo snorted. "I didn't mean as a noble. I meant as a brother. If one of my sisters was sick, I wouldn't be dignified."

"You're not a noble. You wouldn't understand."

"Hey, Rukia." He stopped suddenly. "Should you be out walking like this? Y'know, in your...condition?"

"I'm sick, Ichigo," she cast a glance at him over her shoulder, "I'm not - " She stopped too, and cursed herself for the ease with which she used colloquialisms. She slowly turned to look at him. He was glaring at her moodily. "Come on," he said brusquely, and walked ahead of her.

* * *

"Ehhhh...." Matsumoto sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Matsumoto!" Hitsugaya called as he pushed open the door to his office. The first thing that came to his attention was the noticeably large pile of forms that hadn't been signed. The second thing was the myriad of bottles strewn across the room, and the third was that it was ridiculous that he hadn't noticed the second one first. He either needed an eye exam or a holiday. His eyebrow twitched and he clenched his fist. _"Matsumoto!"_

"Ehhhh..." She said again, and slumped further onto his desk. "Taicho, why do you have such a loud voice?"

"What's the meaning of this?" He picked his away through the bottles and smacked a pile of reports on the desk. "I asked you to finish the paperwork. And why are you hung over already? I haven't even been gone two hours."

Groaning, she heaved herself off the desk and breathed a sigh of relief. "They were crushing me, taicho!" She patted her breasts. "And Kira came round and we just started talking...and..." She reached for another bottle. "We had t'have a drink for Kuchiki! As a farewell. And one drink turned into a couple..."

"She's not dead yet," he growled, and took the bottle off her.

"Well!" She grabbed it back. "That's cause for a celebration! Drink?"

"I have work to do."

"Just one drink! Taicho, please?"

"No, Matsumoto, I am not getting drunk with you." He took the bottle back and placed it on his desk. "You're already drunk."

"But if you do, you could take advantage of me and I wouldn't even know!" She tugged on his sleeve. "Right, Shiro-chan?" She winked.

His eye twitched. _"Matsumoto! _Go and lie down somewhere and sleep it off."

"Taicho, you're so kind..." She heaved herself to her feet and grabbed the bottle of sake. "My breasts are taking advantage of me..." She mumbled, and staggered out the door.

Hitsugaya exhaled loudly and dropped into his chair, pulling the first report to him. About to open it, he stopped and sighed again. "Not dead yet," he muttered, and ran a hand through his hair, "but for how long?"

* * *

"Ichigo-san, welcome. I expected to see you." Unohana smiled warmly at him. "Rukia-san, Isane-san will prepare you. I'll be with you shortly."

Rukia nodded her thanks and glanced at Ichigo, who grinned back at her. "See you, Rukia. I'll be hanging out with Byakuya when you're done."

She waved a hand at him and followed Isane, trying not to think just how badly _that _would turn out.

Ichigo shifted his gaze to Unohana. "You're treating her yourself?"

"Of course." She smiled again. "She's of the greatest importance."

"Byakuya's reach extends pretty far, huh?"

Unohana just smiled. "Is there anything else?" She enquired politely. "If not, I'll attend to my patient." He was silent, and she turned to leave.

"Unohana-san?" He called quietly. She looked back at him. His eyes narrowed and she was sure she saw something dark flicker across them. When he spoke his voice was low and threatening.

"She has to live."

Say something enough, and maybe, just maybe, you'll start to believe it.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__Meh that was hard to write. I think it's less rushed than the last chapter though. I may have to redo that one. Anyway, thanks for reading! Please leave a review with comments, ideas, anything. Any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **__So, er, very very late update. Sorry about that. To those still reading, thank you very, very much! You primarily have Toushi to thank for kickstarting me to write more. Strangely, I actually had all but the last section typed up. I guess I forgot I had done that much. xD Anyway, as always, please review and point out spelling/grammar mistakes, etc. I'm going to try and update more regularly (broken record, I know). I'm at university now (woohoo!) and I think my creative juices are flowing! Thanks for reading! x_

_-_

Byakuya watched his sister's friend walk toward him. His sister's friend...he was unsure when he started considering that boy to be anything worthy of being considered, let alone something above the level of an irritating intruder. He certainly never referred to him in that way to anybody, and he certainly gave no indication, including to himself, that he approved of the friendship.

But the matter stood, he _was _her friend. He could not name many who held that title (regardless of whether he thought they deserved it), so he professed that he would regard this boy fairly. He would be polite, friendly - if not welcoming - out of respect for his sister and the ones she valued.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," he said coldly as the boy stopped before him. "What are you doing here?"

Well, maybe another time.

"Hey, Byakuya." Ichigo shrugged his shoulders a little and smiled. "You don't seem surprised to see me."

Dragging contempt from one's voice was a difficult endeavour. "I have been aware of your presence from the moment you came here. I will repeat my question, since you seem incapable of answering what you have been asked. What are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting Rukia. I thought that was obvious."

"Then you may leave."

"What?" Ichigo let out a short laugh. "What are you on about?"

"Exactly that. You may leave. You have visited her, and now your purpose here is complete. You may leave," he repeated, and turned away, clear that the conversation was over.

"Oi, Byakuya." Something in the boy's voice made him stop and look back at him over his shoulder.

"What are you thinking?" Ichigo crossed his arms and met Byakuya's gaze. "I'm not leaving. She needs her friends!"

"She needs treatment. The 4th division is accomodating that; _you _are of no use."

"What about emotional support? Have you even asked her what she wants? She needs people to be there!"

"You think you will make a difference?" He turned back to face him, and Ichigo felt an irrevocable shift in his voice and in the air and in the doomed march of their existence, and he knew that some unseen boundary had been crossed and that nothing would undo the effects of this conversation.

"Feelings of warmth and closeness...these do not heal a person. You may be devoted to her even more than you are to yourself, and that changes nothing. Kurosaki Ichigo, your lack of worth is absolute. There is nothing for you to do but leave. This is not your place."

Ichigo felt a burning in the back of his mind, and he was angrier, much angrier than he had been in a long time. "Why do people keep saying that!? I belong where I'm needed - "

"And I told you that you are not."

"You're wrong!"

The change in his reiatsu took Byakuya by surprise. "Control yourself," he ordered quietly, and Ichigo did. "I have no desire to discuss this further. I expect you to be gone by evening."

He turned and walked quickly away. Struggling to force his anger back under control, Ichigo made no move to stop him.

The midday sun burned his eyes and his heart, and he ducked swiftly into the shade of a narrow alley for fear that it would burn right through to his soul and force him to see what lay buried there.

-

"Do you think the sun will ever die?" Rukia shifted more comfortably into the grass and stretched one arm up to peer at it between her fingers. "I don't."

Ichigo glanced briefly down at her then returned to surveying the grounds of the 13th Division. It was a fairly nice hill they were on; sunny and warm but with a good-sized tree for shade (or, in Rukia's case; for climbing on, and for Ichigo to wonder how many acorns he could throw at her before she fell off.) It was also not very far from the 13th Division headquarters, which was good because they weren't going for a damn hike all over Soul Society just to get themselves killed by Byakuya for doing so, regardless of the fact that Rukia said that wouldn't really matter anyway, at least in her case.

"It's a star, you idiot." Ichigo crossed his legs and pulled at tufts of grass,wondering for the seventh time what they were even doing on a hill in the first place. "Of course it'll die. It'll get bigger and eventually it will burn itself out." He paused. "Or it will explode.

"Is this sun even my sun?"

Rukia scowled and rested her hands beneath her head. "You ruined it."

"How did I ruin it? It's the truth."

"What makes you believe it's the truth?"

"Because..." He stopped and stared moodily at the ground. He threw some grass into the wind and watched it drift away. "It's been proven. By science."

"Proven?" She narrowed her eyes even though she knew he wasn't looking and stared at the sky. "Has the sun died before?"

"That's a stupid thing to say."

"Then there's no proof!" She sat up suddenly and glared at him. "You can't say something will happen for certain. Because other stars die? That doesn't mean this one will!"

"It will anyway!"

"You don't know that!"

"It has to! Everything dies!" In the back of his mind he registered the absurdity of their conversation. Rukia stood up quickly; too quickly - her breath hitched in her throat and she pressed a trembling hand to her forehead.

He didn't know why he didn't stand then, as well, and help...or do _something_. He stayed sitting there as she shakily walked away from him and made her way down the hill. He stayed sitting there until he couldn't see her anymore, wondering why she didn't look back at him and feeling that godforsaken sun bear down on him with its resolute life. He stayed sitting there until he remembered with bitterness that some stars' deaths were the brightest, most violent and most beautiful events in the universe, and that all the while the smaller ones just wasted away...until they had used up all of their energy. Until there was nothing left. And they just fucking _died. _

--

"I'm sorry."

Rukia stared back at him icily from beneath her lashes. She lay a stack of papers on her brother's desk and twisted in her chair to face him. "No, you're not."

Ichigo gritted his teeth and glanced sideways at Byakuya, who met his gaze before lowering his eyes back to the reports that needed signing. "How do you know that?" He hissed quietly. Needlessly, rather, for by the tilt of Byakuya's head he was sure the man was listening intently.

"Well, are you?"

"No." He stole an incredulous look at Renji, sitting beside Byakuya and sorting the papers he signed, and wondered just how many more people Rukia could fit in that office and still consider it private. He couldn't help his voice rising. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to be sorry about!"

"Exactly!" She huffed and picked the papers up again, tapping their edges on the desk to straighten them. "You don't."

"Do you?"

"Don't change the subject."

"This is the subject! You don't even know yourself, so why are you angry with me?" Another glance at Byakuya, who was now staring straight at him as he flicked through the reports and stamped each one, all the while never taking his eyes off him. "Look," he lowered his voice again, "can we talk about this somewhere?"

"We _are _talking about it somewhere." She straightened the stack of papers again and Renji snickered quietly. "And there's nothing to talk about."

"Somewhere private?"

"This is private."

Ichigo clenched his fist to keep from yelling and pointing blatantly at Byakuya and Renji. Or hitting her. He couldn't decide which. "I just think there are some _issues _you need to sort out." He heard the thud of Byakuya's stamping increase exponentially, and wished not for the first time that their observers would develop some decency and leave.

"What sort of issues?"

_"What do you think!?" _It took him half a second to realise he'd shouted, another half a second to realise the room was completely silent, a full three seconds to realise that meant Byakuya had stopped stamping and God forbid was probably drawing his sword at this very instant and -

"Ahem."

Wincing, Ichigo turned to face him.

"You are in my workplace, Kurosaki Ichigo." Byakuya had stood in the silence and was regarding him carefully. "Do not raise your voice in my workplace. Moreover, do not raise your voice at my sister when you are in my prescence and _in my workplace."_

"Uh - " He stammered, catching Rukia's smug look out the corner of his eye, and desperately looked to Renji for support.

"Taicho?" Renji placed the final lot of reports on the desk and stood up. He gave Byakuya a nervous grin. "I'm finished here. I can take him with me on my way out."

Byakuya stared hard at Ichigo. "Make sure you do," he said coolly, and resumed his seat. Renji laughed shortly and grabbed Ichigo's shoulder. "C'mon," he said, and pushed him not too gently toward the door. "See you later, Rukia."

"Goodbye, Renji," she called after them, giving Ichigo a wry grin when he looked back at her. She turned back to her brother and smiled. "Nii - "

"You may leave also, Rukia."

The smile dropped from her face and she felt like he had punched her in the gut. "Nii-sama - we haven't finished the paperwork yet." Byakuya did not raise his head to look at her. "I will do it alone," he said.

"Nii-sama, please!"

"Do not beg, Rukia," he commanded, and his voice was harsher than he had intended. "It is unbecoming. You may _leave_."

She sat mutely for a moment, digging her nails into her palms until the pain grounded her and brought her back to normality. But still, the hollow feeling wouldn't go away. "Yes, Nii-sama," she said hoarsely, and stood to leave.

-

"Oi, Renji..." Ichigo stared dully at the setting sun and leaned back against the 6th Division's barracks' wall. "You really think she'll die from this?"

Renji sighed. "This is getting into some pretty heavy stuff, you know."

"You expect me to talk about the weather?"

"No, I don't." He cracked his knuckles and turned his head to look at him. "...I don't know. I can't - " He sighed again and stopped, re-cracked his knuckles and gathered his thoughts. "Right now...that's not even a possibility to me. I can't acknowledge that."

"Yeah...I get that."

They were silent for some time, each lost in their own thoughts, until Renji started suddenly. "Oi!" He said excitedly. "Oi, Inoue!"

"I...noue?" Ichigo replied dumbly.

"Yeah, Inoue! That girl can heal Rukia!"

For a moment his mind caught Renji's excitement, but after a second thought he sighed and dropped his head back against the wall. "Renji...Unohana-san said there wasn't much they could do. If the 4th Division can't help her, Inoue probably can't either."

"Hey," He said roughly, "it's not going to hurt. We have to try everything we can."

"Yeah...I s'pose..."

"But," Renji suddenly raised his head to look at the darkening sky. His voice softened. "What would it be like if she did...? Life without her...I've thought about that possibility before. But those times, I could get stronger. I did. I could protect her. But this - "

"I know," Ichigo whispered, and he felt sick as Renji spoke his own greatest fear. That this sickness, this disease, this thing that was killing her, was not something he could protect her from.

And it scared the hell out of him.

-

_**Author's Note: **__So, not as long as others. But I thought that was a better place to leave it than later on. Good news is that I've got plans for the next chapter and so forth, so look out for an update! Thank you SO much for reading to the end! Jolly decent! Please review and I will love you eternally. _

_P.S. Waiiiii! How could I not know that there was an extended edition of Final Fantasy VII Advent Children?? I am now downloading it as we speak! Hopefully it will stave off my mad desire to play the game on my PC. Which has been a disastrous attempt at downloading and trying to install it. Any tips, feel free. Much love! xD_


	5. Chapter 5

-1_**Author's Note: **__Oh. My. God. Yes, you are correct. I've updated twice in 24 hours. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? It may be the lovely reviews (thank you OB, GD, teshichan, Valu86 and Toushi xx) or the fresher flu I am currently cursed with, or the fact that I'm feeling inspired by Advent Children Complete (which was AWESOME!). Who knows? So, er, don't expect another one this quick! Or maybe do. Maybe if I get them all out quickly I'll actually finish it. xD _

* * *

Byakuya slept.

When he woke, he wished for the briefest moment that he had not.

In dreams, he does not hear the racking gasps for breath that rip through the night's silence.

In dreams, his conscious avoidance of his sister gives him no guilt.

In dreams, his family do not die.

He closed his eyes and slept again.

* * *

The living world made Ichigo uncomfortable. A ridiculous notion, he thought, as he waited outside Orihime's apartment, casting furtive glances down the street to see if she had finished school yet. He was torn between going to meet her and facing the rabble of his classmates, or waiting for her and wasting precious time.

His unease grew with the passing minutes. Here, he had no idea how Rukia was doing, and the distance and Soul Society's notorious lack of communication with him weren't doing anything to calm his nerves. He knew it was unreasonable - after all, he couldn't do anything for her when he _was_ with her -

"_That's right - you can't do **anything**."_

The hollow's sudden appearance in his mind threw him off balance. "Shut up!" He growled, and fought to regain his own head. "Shut up!"

His hollow snickered. _"__Face it, King. Rukia-chan__'__s going to die!__"_He trilled in delight. _"__And you can__'__t do anything about it!__"_

"This is the worst time, Hollow! Get out of my head!"

"_What do you think she'll look like when she dies? Do you think there'll be blood?"_

"I said shut _up!_"

He forced the hollow out of his mind and reluctantly, he drifted back to wherever the hell he resided when Ichigo didn't need him. He rubbed his tired eyes and fervently begged Orihime to hurry up.

Just as he had made up his mind to go and find her, he heard her fast-paced chatter with her school friends rounding the corner.

"See you, Tatsuki-chan!" Orihime waved to her friends as they walked ahead and climbed the steps to her door. Ichigo stepped out in front of her.

"Inoue."

"Ku - Kurosaki-kun!" She stammered and almost dropped her key. "What are you doing at my house?" She hesitated when she saw the look on his face. "Kurosaki-kun…why haven't you been at school?"

"Inoue…I need your help." She flushed when he grabbed her arm, and more so when she met his gaze. "Um…"

"Rukia's sick…or something. I need you to come to Soul Society and heal her."

"Kuchiki-san is sick? What sort of sick?" She briefly wondered why they were having this conservation just outside her door, and why didn't they go inside where it was warm, because she didn't know if she could quite call it spring yet with all this cold - but it didn't matter. Ichigo didn't look like he wanted to move. She barely registered that he was still talking.

"…She coughs and stuff. And she's tired. She doesn't do much. It sounds like nothing but everyone keeps saying that she's going to die - "

"Kuchiki-san's going to _die?_" Confusion filled Orihime's mind. She had only seen her friend a few weeks ago, and she was fine! Perfectly fine. No, that wasn't quite true…she remembered the day Rukia tried to tell her what she wrote for her essay. And their school track day a couple of weeks before that - Rukia became visibly tired after only two races, and she'd ended in a huge coughing fit. Orihime didn't think anything at all of it - there had been bugs going around at school, but still…

"No. No, she's not. Because you're going to heal her." All this time Ichigo hadn't let go of her arm, and now he tugged on it in the direction of the stairs. "Let's go. Urahara's opening a senkai gate for us."

She didn't want to say the word. _But she might__…_ She nodded and let herself be half-dragged down the stairs.

Ichigo said nothing else to her as they made their way to the Urahara Shop. He focused on keeping the hollow under control and out of his head. He made a promise to himself to keep it inside of him until they got this sorted out. He was too high-strung to work together with it at that moment. If the hollow somehow gained control…he shivered inwardly and kept moving.

Orihime struggled to keep up with Ichigo's pace. She had no idea how bad (or good) Rukia was. She didn't know whether she could make a difference. After all, Soul Society had a whole team of healers.

Her gaze flicked to Ichigo and she remembered the way he had looked at her. She felt her resolve strengthen and fill her blood, flooding her veins and her body until she was sure, damn sure, to the very depths of her heart that she would do anything, _anything_, to keep that look off Ichigo's face. That horrid, horrid look.

* * *

Ichigo brought Orihime to the 4th Division as soon as they arrived in Seiretei. If Rukia wasn't there, at least he could get Unohana to speak with Orihime.

"Ichigo-san, welcome." Unohana smiled warmly at him and then turned her gaze to Orihime. "Orihime-san," she smiled again, "I am so glad you came. Would you like to take a look at Kuchiki-san?"

"Um," Orihime faltered. She wasn't used to Soul Society's captains speaking to her as an equal. She flushed with pride. "Yes, thank you, Unohana-san."

"Come this way." Unohana led them both down a hallway. "Our healers, and myself, do what we can to ease her pain, but nothing we can do is a permanent fix. We can give her…more time."

"She's not even that bad!" Ichigo interrupted.

As if on cue, they heard an explosion of hacking coughs coming from one of the wards, and Renji's whispering voice in the silence that followed. Unohana stopped outside it. "Please, Ichigo-san…don't underestimate this disease." She almost imperceptibly narrowed her eyes. "I have seen it kill someone before." With that, she knocked softly on the door before pushing it open for the others to walk through.

Rukia was sitting up on the bed, slumped forward, a bloodied cloth held limply in her hands. Hanatarou bowed over her, fussing, he took the cold cloth Renji placed in his outstretched hand and pressed it to her forehead. Renji looked up as they entered. Unsurprised, he nodded at them and gestured helplessly to Rukia.

She looked slowly up at them and gave a thin smile. "Hey, Inoue," she whispered. "I'm glad to see you."

"Is that…blood?" Orihime's breath hitched in her throat.

"_See…? There **is **blood!" _

Ichigo panicked and shoved his hollow back underneath his reiatsu. He tore his eyes from the blood-spattered cloth.

Orihime crossed the floor quickly and sank onto the bed next to Rukia. She hugged her tightly. "Kuchiki-san…" She said softly, and fought back the threatening tears. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," Rukia admitted, and gently withdrew Orihime's arms. She smiled at her friend, and her voice gradually became a little louder. "But I'm alright."

Hanatarou excused himself to Rukia and stood up. He smiled tiredly at Ichigo. "Ichigo-san. How have you been?"

"Hey, Hanatarou. Better. Unohana-san," He forced himself to look away from Rukia. "Ukitake-san coughs up blood. He's still living. So…she'll be ok, right?"

"No." It was Rukia's voice that answered him, and they both turned to look at her. "Ukitake-taicho has tuberculosis. This…I don't know what this is."

"It's unnamed, as yet." Unohana turned back to Ichigo. "It's likely both Rukia-san and her sister inherited it from one of their parents. Rukia-san has most probably ruptured a blood vessel from all her coughing, hence the blood."

"But why is she coughing in the first place? What sort of disease is this?"

"We don't fully know." Unohana sighed and briefly closed her eyes. "It's a cycle. She coughs because she isn't getting enough air into her lungs. This is also making her tired. And she isn't getting enough air into her lungs because her muscles are going into atrophy so she can't breathe effectively. But the more tired she becomes the harder it is to breathe, and so on."

"So -" Ichigo cast a furtive glance at Rukia, who was silent, "- she just needs rest, then? And once she rests she'll stop coughing."

"No, Ichigo-san. This is only the beginning. Her organs will start to fail, and -"

"If you know what's wrong then why don't you fix it!"

"Ichigo!" Renji's voice interrupted him.

"Stop shouting," Unohana commanded sternly, and they both did. "I said before that we can ease her pain somewhat. We can extend the time she has. But we cannot cure her."

Ichigo struggled to keep his voice calm and even. He slowly clenched and unclenched his fist. "Why not?"

"Patience, please. Orihime-san? Please do what you can for Rukia-san now. Hanatarou," she turned to the 7th seat, "you may go now."

"Yes, taicho." Hanatarou bowed to her and waved at Rukia. "See you tomorrow, Rukia-san! Goodbye Ichigo-san, Inoue-san, Abarai-fukutaicho."

"See you, Hanatarou," Rukia said softly, and allowed Orihime to lie her down on the bed.

"Um…" Orihime paused and furrowed her brow. "Ok. I'm going to try now, Kuchiki-san." She summoned Ayame and Shun'ou and wished with each strand of her soul that they would help. Rukia sighed and closed her eyes as the warm amber light washed over her.

Orihime shoved every ounce of energy she had into that barrier while the others watched. She hoped, begged, prayed that she could help her friend. _And in turn, Kurosaki-kun…_ The selfish, monstrous part of her mind whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. This was Kuchiki-san. And she would help her.

After what seemed like hours, though she guessed it had only been minutes, Rukia opened her eyes and met her gaze. "Kuchiki-san…" Orihime said hesitantly, and dropped the barrier. Her hands trembled with the effort.

"I don't feel anything," She said slowly, and touched a hand to her forehead. "It doesn't hurt, but -"

"I can still feel it," Orihime whispered, and squeezed her eyes shut. Shame and guilt burned beneath her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kuchiki-san. Let me try again."

"No, Inoue." Rukia placed her hand over Orihime's. "You need to rest."

Ichigo looked hastily between the two to Unohana, who was smiling a little. "That's good," she said quietly, "she can already detect the disease within her. She's talented."

"So what the hell do we do now!? Nothing happened!"

"We stop shouting, idiot!" Renji crossed the floor in two steps and shoved Ichigo against the wall. "You're acting like this is all happening to you, when you're forgetting who's the one that _is _sick."

"I know that," Ichigo said through gritted teeth, and glanced at Rukia, who was watching him with eyes of stone, and at Orihime, who sat with her head bowed and her hands curled into fists. He struggled against Renji's grip.

"So start acting like it!" Renji shoved him once more before letting go. He moved back to Rukia's side and rested his hand on her shoulder. "So, Unohana-taicho," he said evenly, "what do we do now?"

"We wait, Abarai-san. And we keep trying."

* * *

_**Author's Note: **I like Orihime. I don't really know why. I never used to. But I think she's an interesting character in her own right. She's flawed, but all characters are. Meh. _

_So as you can see I've taken a lot of liberties with Hisana's illness. I have no idea what she had so I've made most of it up. Though I am researching, my medical knowledge does suck a wee bit so please, if you have any ideas or help please tell me! We'll get to why Orihime couldn't heal her a bit later, though I'm guessing some of you may already have an idea. _

_Thanks for reading and please review! xx_


	6. Chapter 6

-1_**Author's Note: **__Hello everyone! I hope you are all well. Thanks for keeping up with this story! Special thanks to glon morski, mystical phoenix-avalon, ShioriShiro, jngp (clever cookie!), someone?yes!someone, Toushi, Veronica111111, Juveniliare and GD. Special thanks to pamianime for reviewing every chapter in quick succession! Thanks guys! You rock. _

* * *

Oh God. If there was one person who's existence in the world could conjure up the greatest feelings of loathing and abhorrence that Byakuya could ever experience in his entire life, ever, then this person was it. He watched Shihouin Yoruichi stride quickly toward him and wondered if he could make an escape without looking pathetic.

"Yo, Byakuya-bo." Yoruichi came to a halt before him and propped a hand on her hip. She grinned. "Long time, no see. Did you miss me?"

"No," he said, with as much indifference as he could muster. "Your presence is little more than irritating. What are you doing in my garden?"

"Don't give me such a rude greeting! You and I are old friends. I just came by to admire your cherry blossoms."

"They will be ready in little more than a week."

"Ah, well that's good, then. Say," she tipped her head to one side and smiled wider, "how's your sister?"

The slight geniality that he had humoured her with before melted away. Instead he raised his head half an inch and looked down at her. "She's fine. Why do you ask?"

"Oi, Byakuya…don't act like you're above me." She grinned again and straightened up. "I used to be taller than you."

He said nothing, but attempted to convince himself that he could not remember a time when that was so.

"Don't pretend that she's fine. Kisuke's been looking into it. Thinks that -"

"This is a family matter. Do not interfere."

"You want to keep deaths in the family!?" She snapped. She folded her arms and frowned at him. "You're distancing yourself, Byakuya. It's not useful." She threw her arms up in defeat and laughed. "Ah, who am I kidding? The noble Byakuya-bo is master of distancing himself!"

Byakuya remained silent. Yoruichi narrowed her eyes. "I know you don't want her to die. But she's not going to have the will to survive if she thinks you don't care at all. Think about it, Byakuya!"

"Are you quite finished? If so, I will excuse myself." He turned to leave.

"Fine, have it your way! I'm going to speak to someone who actually knows something about all this. While I'm doing that, try and save your sister's life." She stalked away grumpily, muttering darkly to herself. She was halfway to the gate when she heard his voice, quiet enough that one might think he spoke only to himself. "…Why do you care?"

She turned around slowly. "Because," she said, equally as quiet, "She's important to people who are important to me. And I didn't go to all that trouble getting those kids to save her just so she could die by some illness."

Byakuya did not reply, but after a moment walked away into his mansion. Yoruichi gave a half-smile to the slowly-blossoming trees and left.

* * *

"Rukia…Ruukiaaa…_Rukia!__"_

She sat bolt upright with a startled gasp and stared incredulously at Ichigo, peering down at her with a bemused look on his face.

"What are you _doing?_" She hissed, and slowly steadied herself into a sitting position. She pulled the covers of her futon closer. "It's the middle of the night."

"I know that." He stretched and cricked his neck. "You ok?"

"How did you even get in here?"

"Byakuya's guards aren't very good, y'know."

"They're fine." She studied him carefully. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? We didn't get a chance to talk earlier." He settled himself on her floor and placed Zangetsu beside him.

"What's there to talk about?"

"What _isn__'__t _there to talk about, Rukia? So…how are you feeling?" He dropped his head. "…Sorry. That's a useless thing to say."

"No, it's not." She gently touched her temple. "I feel better, after Inoue. Until you woke me up."

"Ah, sorry about that." He gave her a wry grin. "But c'mon, all you've been doing lately is sleeping."

"That's because I'm _tired, _Ichigo. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?"

"Don't freak out. I only said it as a joke."

She suffered a yawn and forced her eyes open. "Did Inoue get home ok?"

"Yeah, she's fine."

"Ichigo…" She raised her head to look at him. "What are you doing here?"

"You just asked me that. You've not got Alzheimer's now too, have you?"

"I mean it. What…_why _are you here? There's no reason for you to be."

"You know," his eyes hardened and he subconsciously rested his hand on Zangetsu's hilt, as if the urge to protect was subconscious too (and maybe it was), "that's the same thing Byakuya said to me."

"That's because it's true. I appreciate that you're concerned…but this doesn't have to involve you. This is my battle. It's my burden. This…this is my inheritance."

"Stop it!" He was on his feet in an instant. "Stop being so defeatist about it! Don't accept something when you can fight against it! Why don't you fight this!? That's what I'm doing!"

"What do you have to fight against!?" She snarled, and would have stood too, but she could not summon the strength.

"I just…" He looked away, and for less than a second he saw a flash of his mother's bleeding body on the ground. He spun back to face her. "I'm just sick of death, ok!? I've seen too many people die! Every day I see others who are already dead or about to be! I'm sick of it! I don't want to see one more!"

"…You selfish, insignificant human."

She turned her blackened eyes on him, and the tone of those words was something which he had heard from many shinigami but never expected to hear from her; it stopped him in his tracks.

"Do not speak to me of death. Do not cry like a child that you have seen too much of it." She was more noble than friend, then - and for that moment he lost sight of all frailty and sickness in her. He towered above her, but somehow she was still looking down at him. "You know _nothing. _You have seen _nothing. _You will never know death like I do." Her eyes glittered darkly in the gloom. "And never, _never _speak of it to me until you are faced with the coming of your own."

He stared at her, frozen. "Rukia…"

"Do not say my name!" She lurched to her feet and a surge of her diseased reiatsu hit him. "I want you out of here. You dare complain to me! You _dare!_"

"Oi, Rukia, calm down! You'll exhaust your -"

"Get out!" She cried, and stumbled toward him. He backed wildly away from her, and in a second Byakuya's mansion burst into life. Lamps were lit; shouts were heard across the complex, and thudding footsteps echoed toward them.

The servants arrived first. They flung open the doors of Rukia's bedroom, barely missing Ichigo as he reeled backward, all the while trying to calm her. He heard nothing as they shouted at him, took hold of her and tried to cradle her in their arms as she struggled to get past. Then he was shoved out the door by the arrival of the armed guards, who formed a half-circle between Rukia and himself, their swords drawn and pointed at his throat.

He saw nothing of this. He felt nothing. He saw only the raging hate in her eyes as she fought against the servants who held her.

"_Get out!" _She screamed, and suddenly, he was there.

Byakuya appeared in front of Rukia (shunpo, Ichigo subconsciously realised), and there was no need for him to say one word. He had only to look at Ichigo for him to kick-start back into life and scramble away from them. He took one lasting look as he fled, and it was enough to see Rukia take two more steps before, gasping, she pitched forward and collapsed into her brother's arms.

* * *

Orihime dug her toes into her carpet. It was dry, she noted, and uncomfortable. New carpet was too expensive. Maybe she could go into town tomorrow and hire one of those carpet cleaning machines she'd seen on TV. They were supposed -

She choked back a pitiful laugh, hugged her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them. Kuchiki-san was sick, maybe even dying, and here she was thinking about her _carpet_.

"I'm pathetic," she whispered, and squeezed her eyes shut. Her unlit apartment felt cold and unwelcoming. Maybe it only felt that way to weak people like herself. If she was stronger, the world wouldn't feel like it wasted its warmth on her.

The look on Kurosaki-kun's face as he left her in the living world was still fresh in her mind, though she doubted hers was in his. She didn't expect it to be. She hated that look. It was distracted, worried, constantly turning over options and possibilities and calculating time and it had no time for her because - well, it just didn't. To his credit, though, he had managed a sincere (she hoped) goodbye as he went, and the briefest of thin, tight smiles.

"_Thanks for trying, Inoue."_

Not what he probably meant to say. "You failed, Inoue," or "you're too weak, Inoue."

She exhaled slowly and wrapped her arms around knees, shielding her eyes from the glaring dark. She had honestly believed she could help. She could heal injuries, even sickness; she'd sneakily used Santen Kisshun to get rid of a cold she'd had not too long ago, just to see if it worked. And it did; so why should this be any different?

…

What if Kuchiki-san _did _die? What would happen to those who were left behind? What would happen to her friends, who owed the opening of an entirely new world to her? What would happen to Kurosaki-kun?

What if this path of their lives was in fact owed not to Kuchiki-san, but to fate? What if it was destined that Kurosaki-kun would do the work of a shinigami, with or without her help?

What if it was destined that Kuchiki-san die?

_No,_ Orihime thought fiercely. _No._

She didn't care if it was supposed to be fate. She would create her own. She would get stronger. She would create her own miracle. Kuchiki-san would not die, not if she could do anything to stop it. If others could not, she would save her.

Whether for Kuchiki-san's sake, for Kurosaki-kun's, or for her own; she was not sure.

…

But surely it was the action that mattered, regardless of the feelings behind it?

…

She would have to think on that.

* * *

"Your sister was beautiful."

Rukia didn't answer. Byakuya didn't expect her to; she'd been in a heavy sleep since the ryoka boy had left. Occasionally she stirred or her cheeks flushed with fever; then he would wring out a cloth from the bowl of water beside them and place it on her forehead. Her breathing was shallow, rasping and haggard - no doubt she had strained her vocal chords screaming at that boy.

He narrowed his eyes at the thought of him. Regardless of how he got into the mansion undetected, Byakuya had no idea why he was with Rukia in the middle of the night anyway. He was quite sure they hadn't developed that sort of interest in one another.

At least, he hoped so.

Those questions could wait for the morning. Or the afternoon. Or whenever she was well enough to answer them. If that time ever came…

Byakuya was unsure why he stayed with her. And he was more unsure why he spoke to her, when he fully understood that she could not hear him.

Perhaps that was why.

He spoke of how he met Hisana, how he courted her, how he had begged her to stop calling him 'Byakuya-sama' but nothing would sway her. He spoke of things he had not spoken of to anyone for years, if at all.

He told her, to the day, how long it took to find her after Hisana's death. He talked of the contempt from the Kuchiki clan's elders after he adopted her - another embarrassment to the family - and the feeling of the scornful looks they'd regard him with as he walked by.

He did not mention the conflicted feelings he had battled with for years; how he weighed the value of his promise to Hisana against that of to his parents, nor the shameful admittance that he had judged honour over her life.

"I am…proud of you, Rukia." And he was. He was proud of her advancement as a shinigami, and while he did not always agree with how she conducted herself (or usually, for that matter) or the people she chose to surround herself with, he respected the dedication she showed to those people and the loyalty with which she cherished them. It was something he admired, and could no longer find in himself.

He gave her sleeping form something that most people would regard as a nervous tic of the mouth, but what he considered to be a smile. Sort of. He removed the warm cloth from her forehead, picked up another from the bowl, and brushed her stray lock of hair back to place the cloth when he suddenly started and recoiled as if burned.

There, like that, with her hair parted in the middle and momentarily curving at both ends, she looked exactly the way Hisana had before she died. The thin face, the blanket, the cloth - he staggered to his feet, knocking the bowl of water across the floor with a loud clatter.

A servant knocked gently on the door and slid it open. He bowed deeply, keeping his eyes low. "Is everything alright, Byakuya-sama?"

"Clean it up," He ordered, somewhat weakly, and brushed past him. "Watch her."

No.

If there was one person's existence that caused the greatest feelings of loathing and abhorrence Byakuya could experience, it was his own.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **There we go! I am getting so good at this regular author thing. Please continue to review and give your comments and criticism! Or any questions you might have so far! Thanks for reading! x_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: **__That time again everyone! I am so proud of myself for updating regularly-ish. Not saying that this will be a great chapter, but I'll leave that to you to decide. _

_Something that I've been thinking about? We know from early chapters that Rukia came with Hisana to Soul Society when she was a baby, but in the third Bleach movie Byakuya tells Ichigo that Hisana was _born _in Rukongai. A continuity error? Or does Byakuya just not know the whole story? Eh. Not likely. I don't know. _

_Thank you so much for sticking with this story this far! Big thank you to Valu86, Aizawa Ayumu, Kuchiki Rukia-taichou, athenaphoenix17, Juveniliare, omaomae, Toushi, alero1990, Veronica111111, mysticalphoenix-avalon, glon morski, pamianime, and Goku's Daughter for your reviews. __It was interesting for me to note your responses to Rukia and Ichigo's scene in the last chapter. Some liked it, some thought Rukia was too angry, and it was very good for me to see that. Thanks so much. I hope you like this one. _

* * *

Byakuya thought.

For a long time he sat in his office and thought about the incorrigible ryoka boy, paying very little attention to Renji rattling off his report. He now thought less on why he had been in Rukia's room in the middle of the night, and more on what he said to cause her so much distress.

Or done.

His eyes hardened at the thought.

What if he had _done _something?

What if he had taken advantage of his sister's weakness and…done…_something_?

What if that something was something that needed immediate attention, and not a something that you could tuck away in the back of your mind and think 'Oh, that thing's just a something that's not really important. That thing may as well be a nothing.'

What if it was a very big something indeed?

…Well, things _would _be found out.

Byakuya had sent Rukia to the 4th Division later in the morning. She seemed exhausted, anxious, and had been running a fever since dawn. He had visited her once, in the afternoon, and by then her temperature was down and she was resting, though she still seemed weary. Unohana had said they could not persuade her to sleep.

She started asking about the boy then - where he was and if someone could please bring him to see her.

Byakuya had flatly refused her request. He had left her and ordered the duty officers to bar Kurosaki Ichigo from entering the compound at all times and under any circumstances.

This something was not going to carry on.

And if he saw that human boy _anywhere, _regardless of whether he was near Rukia or not, he would kill him.

He didn't think there'd be much of a fuss.

* * *

Ichigo thought.

He thought for hours on one of wide walls cut into the face of the cliff at the centre of Seireitei. He was quite impressed with his ability to get to it in the first place - there had been a lot of precarious balancing involved. After sitting there for so long, seeing the afternoon sun dawdle to the horizon, and finally pass its duty to the moon, he began to understand why Rukia liked high places so much.

He thought that Rukia had gotten completely the wrong idea from him the previous night, and if she had given him a moment to explain his meaning instead of going bat-shit crazy on him, then he wouldn't be in this situation.

Which was, more or less, hiding from Byakuya, or anyone likely to tell Byakuya where he was.

He admitted that he probably sounded rude and whiney, and he hadn't _meant _to go on and on about death to a dead person who worked with other dead people who was dying herself, it just sort of…happened. But she needed to give him a break. It wasn't every day he had to deal with his friends dying.

Well, actually, he'd been having to deal with it every day for the past few weeks.

But whatever.

He also thought, more seriously, that he did _not _like the look that had been in her eyes. It wasn't crazy, it was…loathing. As if she truly hated him at that point in her existence. He wondered if she really did, at that moment, or if it was the sickness that was robbing her of her own beliefs.

He tore a handful of clay from the cliff and threw it to the ground below him. He fervently hoped that wasn't the case. It was bad enough that it was destroying her body, but to change the person that she was? He sighed.

Maybe it was the stress.

Either way, he wanted to see her, and talk to her. Before he'd found his wall, he'd overheard some of the 4th Division's officers commenting that she'd been admitted there again.

He hoped she was alright.

He tossed up between going to see her and staying where he was. Was it too soon? Would she go crazy again and try to attack him? He wasn't too worried. She was pretty harmless in her state.

He hoped.

Well, it was too bad for her if was too soon. He'd just explain things calmly and not worry her and apologise and then everything would be alright. And then she wouldn't look at him with those eyes again, and he'd know they were still friends and still on the same level and then _everything would be alright._

Maybe just a few hours more.

* * *

Orihime thought.

* * *

"Eh, figures you're back in here. I thought you'd burst a blood vessel last night."

Sitting against the wall, Rukia's head shot up. "Ichigo!"

"I know it's really early and you were probably still sleeping. Don't yell at me. If you do, you'll wake everyone up. And I'm not leaving. So then everyone will wake up and I'll _still _be here. So…don't yell." Finished, Ichigo exhaled noisily and sneaked a glance at her. She was looking at him, but not at his eyes; she kept her gaze on his shoulder.

"I'm not going to yell at you," she said softly, "I'm -"

"Sorry, Rukia."

She paused, blinked, and slowly raised her eyes to his.

"I'm sorry I upset you. I wasn't trying to piss you off. But you got offended and freaked out and…I guess…" He ran a hand through his mess of hair and sighed. "I'm not handling this well, am I?"

"Ichigo…"

"Ok, I'm sorry I offended you. The words just came out wrong. And I know I shouldn't have -"

"Ichigo, don't apologise."

"Eh?"

"Don't." She said, a little more forcefully. "I'm the one who needs to apologise. I…" She paused, thinking, and knotted her hands together. "I chose this life. I may not have known what it entailed, but I chose it. But you…I dragged you into my world, when I should have just left you alone. You didn't choose to be surrounded by death." She dragged her fingers through her own thin, brittle strands of hair. "So I'm sorry for being angry at you. I was…out of line."

"Out of line?" He snorted, and sat heavily on the bed beside her. "That's something you say to colleagues or teachers, not to friends."

"I wasn't sure you'd still want to be, after what I said." She admitted. "You're not selfish, Ichigo, and you're not insignificant….at least, not to -" A violent cough ripped through her words. Gasping, she doubled over and clutched her hand to her forehead until it had passed.

Ichigo waited until the coughs subsided, watching her with troubled eyes, before gently grasping her chin and lifting her head up. "Ok?" He asked quietly, and her eyes crinkled wearily in a half-smile. He took a glass of water from the bedside table, pressed it into her hands, and draped one of her blankets around her shoulders. She sipped the water carefully.

"Anyway, don't say stupid things, Rukia. I'm not leaving just because you went all high-and-mighty noble on my ass. Besides," he grinned, "I'm glad you didn't leave me alone when we met. We'd all be dead then, remember?"

"That's right," she smiled back at him weakly, "but there are some things humans shouldn't see and experience."

"I could _already _see things. And stop going on about it. I think we were supposed to know each other, one way or another, and if I hadn't met you I wouldn't have met everyone here, and Byakuya wouldn't have someone to freak out over, and all the things that have happened to us wouldn't have. Something good came out of all of them. Even the bad ones. End of story."

"You mean - ?" She dropped her head. "All the things…" She twisted the glass in her hands.

"So stop worrying. I'm sorry, you're sorry, whatever. Let's get over it."

She nodded, raised the glass to her lips and coughed suddenly again. She wiped her hand across her mouth slowly, then looked at the glass. She started and set it back on the table with a thud, pretending she hadn't seen the water quickly turning red.

It was at that time, which was probably the most inopportune, with Ichigo beside her and not enough sleep and at not even 5 o'clock in the morning, that Rukia realised, seriously, for the first time, that she was probably going to _die. _She'd thought those words before; said them out loud, even; had thrown the idea around her mind and jokingly planned her will with Renji - but this was different. Here was death in the form of bloodied water and the reflections in Ichigo's eyes and her bones made of napalm and Inoue had been and gone and there was really nothing anyone could do. That was it, wasn't it? There weren't any more options. You could hope for a miracle, but in reality, there was only death.

Death.

And it wasn't a human death where there'd be another life waiting for you; she'd been through that; this was death where your very body returned to the air and the world but she supposed there was reincarnation -

Her mind flew to the lines of Ichigo's face and his eyes and what if his hair were black -

And then it almost made sense - sins weren't obliged forgiveness, they just gathered grief in the dust-laden corners of your heart and you could beg and beg and barter away your soul but until you actually _did_ -

_So do._

Rukia swore at the logic of her mind. She'd accepted death willingly before, and offered herself to it readily enough, but something had changed in the months since then and her desire to live had grown and strengthened until she was sure, sure as hell that she did not want to die. And so she would again beg forgiveness to Kaien and her brother and everyone else she had wronged and ask them _not yet. _A little longer. She wasn't _ready_.

A choking hand clawed its way out of her throat. Blood spattered her sheet. She curled her hands into fists and pressed them against her eyelids as her shoulders shook with the coughs, and it took a little while for Ichigo to realise the coughs had given way to sobs and still she crushed her palms to her eyes to block the tears and he had no fucking idea what to do -

And then her hand reached out, clutching the air, so he grabbed it in his and pulled her to him as if she weighed nothing.

Which, these days, she seemed to.

He wrapped both arms round her and tucked her head into the crook of his neck, turning her face away from the blood-stained sheet and the stupid glass of water and the stupid hospital room and everything stupid that wasn't _him, _and he hid his own eyes by resting his forehead on her shoulder. She twisted her hands into his kosode and tugged him closer to her, finding comfort in his warmth and reiatsu and in his familiar smell.

He contemplated for a while if he should just let her cry or if he should say something to get her out of her emotional trough, like remarking that they were doing a pretty good impression of a turtle at the moment, or hey, she wasn't really one of those girls who could cry gracefully and look pretty, was she? He contemplated a moment longer, and then decided that she liked him enough to let him hug her at the moment, and he didn't particularly want to incur the wrath of someone who was in such close proximity to his face and other vulnerable bits.

So he just held her and cursed the world and the cruelty of fate and wondered if there _was _some twisted god looking down on them and laughing.

After a while her sobs quieted and she stilled against him. She blinked slowly against his neck, her eyelashes tickling his skin, and he pulled back slightly to look at her. "A bit better?" He gave her a lopsided grin.

She scowled at him and turned her face into his shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, Ichigo noted, but her skin was cold and clammy. He reached for her blanket with one hand and tucked it round her carefully. "I think you need to get some more sleep," he said gently, and she nodded.

She hugged him tightly for a brief moment, breathing out heavily, before untangling herself from him and scooting back to the her pillow. Pulling her blankets over her, she stopped and stared at the blood-spattered sheet. In a second Ichigo had ripped it from the bed, bundled it up and tossed it into a corner of the room.

"Thank you," Rukia whispered hoarsely, and carefully lay down.

Ichigo acknowledged her with a nod of his head, took the glass of blood and water to the attached bathroom's sink and emptied it. "I'm going now, Rukia." He returned to her side and tugged the blankets further around her. "If word gets to Byakuya that I've been lurking around your room at this hour, he'll have me arrested and killed. Unless he's planning to already."

She smiled tiredly at him. "No, Ichigo, not yet. But it's probably a good idea to stay away for a little while, until he's cooled down."

"I didn't say anything about that. I'll just have to make sure he doesn't catch me, right?"

"Right…" She sighed and rolled onto her side.

"Hey, Rukia…I am sorry, y'know?" His fingertips brushed against her cheek and her hair. "For being insensitive…and complaining, when you're the sick one."

"Don't be," she whispered to the wall, "I wasn't making it easy for you."

"Yeah, whatever. Ok. See you later, sicko."

"Ichigo…?" She twisted her head back to look at him, but struggled to find the words she wanted. She reached back and clasped his hand tightly for a few seconds.

He grinned at her. "Yeah. See you, Rukia."

She watched him go before shifting back to her side and curling herself up in her blankets.

And she realised that now she found it easier to breathe.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Ok, so not a whole lot of plot progression here (or any). But hopefully more character development and a chance to see something from Rukia's perspective, which we haven't had a lot of. Please continue to review and share your comments! There were some very good ideas on Orihime you put forward. Love to you all. x _


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: **__Hello again. I think this chapter's a little longer than the others. It's late at night, I have class in the morning and I'm sleepy, so I doubt I've proof-read this one very well. So please be the lovely people that you are and point out all mistakes! _

_Thanks to jngp, pamianime, darklover, musicinabottle, Veronica111111, mystical phoenix-Avalon, CharmedNightSkye, Toushi, omaome, starsandstuff, Valu86, Aizawa Ayumu, , glon morski, Kuchiki Rukia-taichou, of course Goku's Daughter and for her help with minor characters (I also recommend you read her work). Special thank you to mahappydance for their advice on the Kübler-Ross model. Also thank you to Eradona for reviewing, although I think you misunderstood the story quite a bit. But thanks for your input. _

_It's so cool to see regular reviewers here. Love to you all xx._

* * *

Byakuya disliked sunset.

It wasn't that he didn't like night-time; he did. He found it calming and peaceful and usually quiet, unless Kusajishi-fukutaicho had chosen that particular night to wreck havoc across his mansion.

It was just the act of _becoming _night. The slightest sense of foreboding as the sun set still pricked in his consciousness from childhood; the thought that something unseen and unknown would happen in the darkness and the monsters under the bed would creep out and get too close to you.

Except they weren't under the bed. As he grew up, Byakuya realised the monsters were behind your eyes and inside your head and in the haggard last breaths of your dying wife and -

Of course, the night was never as bad as he expected it to be. Most often, it passed quickly and without incident. The unseen didn't happen, the monsters stayed sleeping, and soon enough the dark surrendered to the light.

It always did.

_Always. _

Even if it was dim, faded, impossible that it would grow stronger, the light always came.

* * *

Orihime was nervous. Urahara didn't make her uncomfortable; she was just worried about what he'd say. She'd practised her speech repetitively in the days since Ichigo had taken her home: she could help, she _would _help, but maybe if Urahara-san could give her a few pointers? No, of course not, she wasn't naïve enough to expect a handbook or one of those yellow books - _Healing Diseases In Deceased Spirits For Dummies. _

She'd also tried it in front a the mirror a couple of times, to perfect her determined, capable, successful-independent-woman expression. If Urahara failed, at least she could ace an interview for business administrators.

"So, Inoue-sannn?" Urahara sang.

She looked up from the interesting pattern on her skirt. All her ideas abandoned her, flew out the window and were sucked up by the street sweeper. "Um…"

"I don't think this is a social visit, Inoue-san. And I'm afraid I don't really have anything for you. Unless you'd like some magazines? A box came in yesterday."

"I…no, thank you, Urahara-san." She squared her shoulders. "I want to help Kuchiki-san. I tried, but -"

"I heard it didn't go so well."

"…No. So, um…please help me." She dropped her head in a half-bow. "I know I can help her. I do! But - I don't know how."

Urahara scratched the edge of his fan against his cheek. "Inoue-san, I'm flattered that you've come to me. I know you're protective of your friends. But I know little about Kuchiki-san's illness. I don't think I can help you."

"Please!" She tried to stop her traitorous shoulders from trembling. She would not cry in front of this man. She would not show weakness, not when she needed him to take her seriously. "I can't sit and wait for one of my friends to die. I have to do something. If you won't help, I'll keep trying by myself. But I _need _your help. Kuchiki-san needs it."

He studied her carefully. She'd grown a lot in the time since her powers had awakened. She had incredible, god-like abilities, and yet here she was, admitting her incompetence and begging for help. He admired her for it.

"Alright, Inoue-san." He smiled cheerfully. "I'll see what I can do."

"R-really?" A smile tugged at her eyes. "Ah, thank you so -"

"Don't thank me yet. It's still unlikely you'll be able to do anything. But we'll give it a try."

"I know." Orihime nodded slightly, but she couldn't stop the tingle of excitement in her chest.

"Now, what we know about your power isn't much. You heal injuries not through rebuilding the tissue, but by bending time and rejecting the damaged state of the object, thus returning it to its original state."

"So, I should be able to return Kuchiki-san to before she had the disease."

"No, not at all. From what Soul Society's healers can gather, she inherited it from one of her parents. Since she was born with it, there's no time that you can go back to. If you did, she wouldn't have even been conceived."

"Then there isn't any hope," she said softly, "because she wouldn't be alive anyway."

"Not unless we can use your power in a different way. We think you can only reject events, but maybe that's because it's all you've _needed _to do so far." He bopped his fan on her head. "That sort of power covers most of your run-of-the-mill accidents!"

"But I don't know how else to heal."

"Which is why you need to practise! Now, we're going to need some apples."

She blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. "…Apples?"

Urahara clambered to his feet. "Of course! I'm going to make some phone calls."

"Uh, ok…" Orihime watched him go. Use her power in a different way…she wasn't sure if she could. Or if there even _was _another way. Surely she would have found it by now? And it taken her a long time to develop the skills to heal serious injuries, and to bring people back from the dead. What if there wasn't enough time for her to learn a new way, before -

_Stop,_ she commanded herself sternly, and she felt her resolve grow. Negative thinking was _not _going to help at all. She'd _have _to learn this. It was that simple. She didn't have another option.

If she didn't, Kuchiki-san would die.

* * *

"You're disturbing my sleep patterns, you know. It's not healthy."

Ichigo grunted, gently nudged Rukia to the side and sat next to her. "_You're _not healthy." He rested his head back against the wall.

"So you're only making me _un_-healthier." She tugged her blanket from underneath his legs and pulled it closer to her, offering him an edge. He played with the seam on the corner and gave her a crooked grin. "You weren't sleeping anyway. If you were, I wouldn't have come in. Besides, this is the only time you're not smothered by Unohana and her army or Byakuya, or Renji mooching around trying to worm his way into your fortune."

"I don't have a fortune." She smiled happily at him. His presence was calming - not on her temper, absolutely not - but to her soul. She'd been feeling better recently; her temperature was down, she'd stopped coughing up blood and she was less tired. Either Unohana's techniques were working, or something inside of her just wanted to live a little more fervently.

"But he has taken claim to most of my things," she continued. "Is there anything you want? I think I've got one stuffed rabbit left and a couple of lollipops."

"You've got lollipops in Soul Society?" He shook his head. "And ask me that question when you're on your deathbed."

She dropped to eyes to her blanket and smiled wryly. "This might be it."

His jaw hardened and he turned his head away from her. "Ichigo," she said softly, bringing him back to his senses, and she placed her hand on his knee in apology. And then he realised how ridiculous this was - _he _should be the one offering comfort, not her - and then he did something that in hindsight was a Very Stupid Idea Indeed. He'd just meant to sort of pat her hand, comfortingly, but he'd misjudged the landing and then left it there for too long and then grabbed her hand in a weird sort of defence reflex and she curled her fingers around his and _oh God they were holding hands how the hell did that happen and WHAT COULD HE DO TO STOP IT!?_

He couldn't detach himself now; their hands were past the point of no return. It would be beyond awkward. But what if he slowly leant away and made hand-holding uncomfortable and then _she'd _let go! But what if she noticed? You couldn't subtly lean away from someone who was sitting beside you. He should just stay still. And stop hyperventilating. And give her no reason to move closer or God forbid, put her head on his shoulder…

Because holding hands was a Big Issue. It wasn't like hugs. Hugs were universally ok. You could hug someone for lots of reasons. 'Oh, that wasn't a fatal blow; I'm so relieved I'm going to hug you.' Or, 'Oh, you've fallen down a thirty-foot well; once I get you out of there I'll hug you to comfort you.' He could give a guy a good, manly hug - but not too often - and not be worried. But he didn't hold hands with guys. He didn't even hold hands with his sisters anymore. You didn't hold hands with someone after you'd gotten them out of a thirty-foot well. You held hands because - well, because, oh, he didn't even want to think about it, let alone think about how awkward Rukia was feeling -

But hold on. She hadn't struggled to skilfully untangle their hands. She was still holding his and had been quiet the entire time he'd been having his nervous breakdown. Oh, no! What if she'd fallen asleep because he was just _that bad _at holding hands? What if he wasn't good enough? Maybe he should have -

And then she tilted her head up, looking a little bemused at the myriad of expressions flitting across his face, and he realised she hadn't been sleeping. She just hadn't freaked out.

At all.

He'd spent a good deal of the last ten minutes feeling like he was about to burst a blood vessel thinking about this Issue, and she was _completely fine. _Moron. What was wrong with her? Did she not grasp the gravity of the situation?

"Ichigo…" Rukia looked at him dryly. "Are you panicking because I'm holding your _hand?" _Not for the first time, he wondered how she was able to get so completely into his head. He twisted his face into what he hoped was a grin. "N-"

"You could have let go."

"Well -"

"It's not a big deal. They're _hands._ See?" She let go of his hand, and before he had the chance to realise that he might-have-sort-of-maybe missed the contact, she'd placed her palm against his and linked their fingers together again.

"Yeah, well," he said gruffly, and flexed his knuckles against hers, "Romeo and Juliet thought it was pretty heavy stuff." She laughed softly. "Did they?"

"Yeah. They were holding hands and then Romeo said 'let lips do what -'"

"What hands do?"

"Something like that." He glowered and pulled his hand from hers. She laughed lightly again. As she exhaled, she felt her energy go too. "Ichigo," she said softly, and briefly closed her eyes against the sudden onset of exhaustion that she was getting used to. He turned to her as she kicked her feet under her sheets and lay down. "You ok?" He asked as he passed her blanket to her.

"Mm," she mumbled, and pulled it to her chin. "It's late…or early. You should go."

"No, I'll wait a while. 'Til I know you're alright." He settled himself on the floor beside her bed and crossed his legs.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning her face into her pillow to cough. She dropped her hand over the side of her bed, her fingertips brushing his shoulder. He lifted his own hand and clasped hers in his, feeling her pulse beneath his. "See?" She murmured. "It's not a big deal."

"I don't know about that," he replied, equally as soft. The panic was gone. He found it comforting now. Reminded of the fragility of life, he wondered why he hadn't taken the opportunity before. Her hand in his was a reminder that she was still there, still alive, and also that there was limited time left to feel that pulse of life beneath his skin.

His hand tightened around hers.

* * *

"Urahara-san said you needed apples."

"Ishida-kun!?" Orihime stared at him in surprise as he followed Urahara through the door, carrying a bag of shiny, bright green apples. She stared even more as Chad ducked through the doorway after him, carrying _seven _bags of apples. "What are you doing here, Ishida-kun?"

"We heard you needed some help. We…know about Kuchiki-san."

"You do?" She said softly, and took one of the bags from Chad as he sat down.

"Yes."

"Is that why you're here? You want to save her too?"

Ishida sighed and sat as well. "There's a lot to talk about. I know from my father what it's like trying to save someone from what's inside them. I don't know if we can this time…but I think if there's a possibility, we should try."

"So you don't think I can, either." She said it as a statement, not a question.

"I didn't mean that, Inoue-san -"

"Did you come here because you're my friends, or Kuchiki-san's friends, or…do you pity me?"

"Inoue-san, not at all, I just -"

And then Chad spoke, startling them all into silence. "We went to Soul Society to protect her." He began, and seemed a little surprised himself. "For whatever reason…that protection has not stopped just because she was saved that time. Now, we protect her as a friend, not just as a friend of Ichigo's."

Orihime stared at him, stunned. Urahara waved his fan about. "Well, that must have filled his quota for the next year, at least!"

Ishida blinked rapidly. "Y-yes." He grunted in Chad's direction, who's face had returned to its previous impassiveness. "…What he said."

* * *

_**Author's Note: **All done. What do you think? Sorry it was a longer update this time. Mid-semester break starts tomorrow. Not sure if that will give me more time to write or less. I'm going to be working a lot. Need some money! _

_Thanks so much for reading! Please review and tell me your ideas and critique! x_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: **__This chapter…annoys me. But it must be written so! I'm worried it's OTT. Please tell me if it is! _

_Thank you to And She Breathed No More, kagali-angel, musicinme123, Anonymous Reader :D, Veronica111111, darklover, Toushi, omaomae, headyzest, Aizawa Ayumu, , and glon morski for their reviews._

_AND oh my goodness we made 100 reviews! I am unduly excited! First story to break that mark. I'm so very grateful to you all, that if you'd like to have anything written (e.g. one shots) then please tell me and I'll see what I can do! I will definitely do one for Toushi, if you want, for being the 100__th__ reviewer. I'm feeling very inspired._

_Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Byakuya questioned the boy's mental capacity. Was he actually so naïve to think he was visiting Rukia unawares? No, not visiting. Intruding. Disturbing. Bothering. Being Generally Unwelcome. Some might find his naivety endearing. Byakuya found it only irritating.

He'd known of Kurosaki Ichigo's…_intrusions _ever since Unohana had mentioned it in passing, and since then he'd kept a better look out for any sign of him. He wasn't sure where he went or what he did between the times he was annoying Rukia, but he had a suspicion Renji might know something on that part.

On Unohana's advice, he'd relented and allowed the boy to continue to see her, but that didn't mean he'd forgone his previous plan of killing him on sight. If he so happened to chance upon him, that plan was still at the forefront of his to-do list.

…At least, it had been. Watching his sister now, in the middle of the night and with very little sleep, any previous desires had been thrown away and replaced by an all-consuming exhaustion.

Rukia lay half on her side, her sheets draped loosely around her, a bowl of cold water on the table beside her bed. She coughed again and turned her face into her arm. "Rukia-san, please try and sleep." Unohana stood patiently beside her bed and rested the back of her hand against her forehead. "It's the best thing now."

"Unohana-san -"

"Rukia, you must sleep," Byakuya ordered. She flinched and attempted to sit up and bow at the same time. "Forgive me, Nii-sama -"

He frowned and sat back in his chair. The fact that she was still insistently submissive, even at this stage, unnerved him. He turned to speak to Unohana, but paused when he felt a presence of reiatsu approaching the door. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand curled around the hilt of Senbonzakura.

Ichigo wandered leisurely down the corridor, stifling a yawn. He really needed to get his visiting hours sorted. He was about to push open the door to Rukia's room when he felt a familiar reiatsu inside and froze. "Shit, shit!" He stole a panicked look up and down the hallway and started to back away.

"Come in, Ichigo-san," a pleasant voice called from within. He winced, and hesitantly nudged his way through the door. Unohana stood smiling genially at him. Byakuya stood glaring at him with an almost-imperceptible look of smouldering death.

"Ah, yo, Byakuya. Unohana-san." Ichigo rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Hey, Rukia."

She watched him silently for a moment before looking back at her brother. "Kurosaki Ichigo," Byakuya rumbled, and took a step toward him, "You -"

"Kuchiki-taicho?" Unohana stepped in front of him. "I think Rukia-san's going to be fine if we step out for a moment. I'm sure you'd like some rest, perhaps? A little something to eat? Ichigo-san will watch her while we're gone."

Byakuya stared at her, before glancing back at Rukia and then finally looking at Ichigo. He kept his gaze as he strode past Unohana and stopped before him, pouring as much contempt and warning into his gaze as he could. Ichigo gave him a nervous grin. "Ah, Byakuya, it'll be -" He broke off when Byakuya lifted his chin and brushed past him. "- Fine." He sighed and shrugged. "Uh, sorry, Unohana-san."

"There is no need for an apology." Unohana smiled at him. She went to follow Byakuya. "But remember," she stopped just past him and the smile dropped from her face for a moment, "Our visiting hours are _not _in the middle of the night."

"Yeah." He grinned uncertainly. "Got it." He looked back at Rukia, who had rolled to her other side to face the wall. He crossed the floor and stopped beside her bed. "Are you alright?"

"There's no air in here. I feel like I'm…suffocating." She stayed curled onto her side, but arched her back and lifted her chin, swallowing lungfuls of air. Brittle strands of hair obscured his view of her eyes. "Maybe I am."

"Don't say stupid things." He sat on the edge of her bed. "I thought…you were getting better."

"Do you know what I want to do, more than anything?" A ghost of a smile graced her lips. He tilted his head to look at her. "I want to run…anywhere. No, outside. On grass." Her smile widened, and she let her eyes close. "I didn't realise I missed air rushing past my ears so much." She laughed shortly.

"When you're better, then you can go for a run. And I'll watch and laugh at how stupid you'll look."

"And breathe fresh air." She suddenly rolled to face him. "You know when it's too hot, or you're wearing a scarf, or you're winded, and you just can't get enough air in? And no matter how hard you try to breathe deeply enough, it never _is _enough? I can't - I just want to -" She inhaled sharply, choked on the air, and tried again. She gasped and turned half-wild, sleep-deprived eyes to him. "Ichigo, I can't breathe."

"Calm down." He ordered gently, and touched his hand to her shoulder. "You're just working yourself up. If you couldn't breathe, you wouldn't be talking. Here," he put his hands under her arms and lifted her to a sitting position, "now breathe."

The air caught in her throat. She dropped her head. "Ichigo -"

"Slowly." He moved his hands to her shoulders and lowered his head next to hers, keeping his eyes on her blanket. "Now breathe in. _Slowly._" Rukia closed her eyes, and her shoulders rose as his did. As they exhaled, she stopped trembling.

She sighed, and surprised him by moving forward an inch and dropping her forehead to rest gently against his. He started at the sudden contact, but checked himself quickly and closed his eyes as well. He tried to control his heartbeat. "Again," he said softly, and they did. And again. And again. She raised her hand and placed it against his chest, as if she needed to feel the proof of his existence as much as he needed hers. His heart slowed beneath her fingers. Their breathing slowed too, and became a steady, metronomic, almost meditative pulse that calmed them further still.

Ichigo wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. He did know that he had no desire to move - he felt more at peace then than he'd felt in a long time, and he was quite content to never move again. Not when he could feel that at that moment, she was as alive as he was.

For weeks, he'd been consumed by the idea of her death. He'd seen her suffering from the disease, but the thought that she would - _could - _die eclipsed thought of anything else. He hadn't comprehended that she was in pain as well. Subconsciously he tightened his grip on her arms. Not only was this thing threatening to kill her, but it also had to hurt her while it did it. It was taking away her dignity as a shinigami as well - for Ichigo knew her work was everything to her, and what use was a shinigami who couldn't work? And if she did die, then this would be how he would last remember her - weak, exhausted; a withering shell of the person he first met.

He wished that he could do something to help her. No, wished was the wrong word. Wishing was something you did at birthdays when you wanted a new bike or rollerblades. This, though…every fibre in his body screamed with the agony of not being able to protect her. Something inside him - was it his heart, his stomach, or his lungs? - twisted into torturous knots. He couldn't physically cope with her pain.

So if this was the only thing he could do, then he would do it. If all he could do was calm her and help her to breathe, then at least it was something.

But hold on, that wasn't the only thing.

…But that would involve moving.

Groaning inwardly, Ichigo opened his eyes. He had to work on not freaking out at how close she was. "Rukia," he said, and straightened up. She flinched at the loss of contact and sat back. She raised her eyes to his.

"Let's go for a walk."

"A walk?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Ichigo, I can't go for a _walk! _I have trouble getting to the bathroom!"

"Enough with the details." He stood up. "It's ok. I'll carry you."

When she shifted unsurely he rolled his eyes and crouched down. "It'll be fine. Bring your blanket."

"Ichigo…"

"Do you _want _to stay cooped up in here?"

"Uh…ok." Pulling her blanket around her, she climbed carefully onto his back, looping one arm around his neck and securely holding the blanket with her free hand. "What if someone sees us leave?" She muttered as he stood up.

"I found a back way outta this place," he answered, and tried not to dwell on how light she'd gotten. "Ready?"

She couldn't help but grow a little eager. "Onwards and upwards, knave!"

"Alright, alright. You don't need to go all medieval."

"What?"

"Never mind." With a quick check down the hallway, he headed for the service exit of the hospital. "See? No one around."

At the end of the corridor, Unohana sighed and watched them leave. "One trip won't hurt," she smiled, and turned away.

"So, where are we going?" Rukia nudged her head against Ichigo's neck.

"I don't know. Where do you want to go?"

"Aren't you supposed to have this all planned out? You're unorganised."

"What do you mean have it planned out? I didn't plan to take you for a walk. It's an impromptu thing."

"You need to organise these things!"

He twisted his head back to look at her. "No I don't! You don't organise trips for a dying person to get some fresh air. That sort of forward thinking is morbid."

"You're supposed to organise _any _trip where you take a girl out. Otherwise it looks lazy."

"This isn't a date, Rukia."

She glared at the back of his head and kicked his leg. "I didn't say it was!"

"That hurt, you idiot!" He glowered at the path in front of them. It was surprisingly fortunate that there was virtually no one around. Then again, he realised, it wasn't even dawn yet, so it wasn't really a surprise after all. Subconsciously he headed toward the upper levels of Seireitei. Rukia liked high places.

"Bit of a sucky date if it was, anyway," he murmured as he continued walking. "Spending it with a sick person."

"Shut up!" She kicked him again.

"Hey! You're supposed to be too weak to walk, let alone kick me. I just meant I'd be spending half the time worrying if you're about to pass out."

"I think I'm going to."

"No you don't."

"I do." She dropped her head limply on his shoulder. "I feel faint."

"You do not."

She glared daggers at his hair. "Well if I did, then you'd be in trouble for not believing me!"

"Rukia? Shut up. Your voice is annoying." Anticipating another kick, he smiled when she chose to rest her cheek against his shoulder and watch the streets below them as they climbed. The change of scenery seemed to be helping already. He was happy that she hadn't forgotten how to joke with him.

And still had the energy to do so.

"The air feels good," she said quietly, more to herself than to Ichigo. She breathed it in deeply and smiled. "It's a beautiful morning."

"The sun's not even up yet, moron."

"That's no reason. We say the day is more beautiful than the night, only because we're never awake to see if that's so."

"You spend too much time observing it." He paused and glanced back at her. "You're not cold, are you?"

"No."

"If you're sure. Here, this'll be a good place." He stopped on a flat section of a courtyard protected by a low, wide wall that dropped straight down past the cliff to the streets below. He unhooked Rukia's arm from around his neck and gently slid her off his back. Shaking, she gripped his sleeve for support and fought to keep her knees from buckling under her weight.

He watched her without speaking, and wondered if he'd ever see her as the person he and his friends had risked everything for ever again.

"C'mon," he said softly, and half-lifted her to sit on the wall. He checked that she was steady before sitting next to her and dangling his feet off the wall. "You ok?" He glanced sideways at her. "Don't fall off."

"No. This is good." She gazed at the warren of streets below them, exposed by the slowly lightening sky, and inhaled deeply. "Ichigo, thank you." She turned to him, her eyes glinting with happiness.

"Ah, it's no big deal." He grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Don't worry about it."

"I won't, then."

They watched in silence as dawn crept upon the sky. Sunrise began with a thin gleam of yellow on the horizon. The edges of the lowest morning clouds glowed golden, and the light washed gradually through them, setting alight the other scraggly, unkempt puffs of cloud. The fire marched slowly across the sky, burning the white clouds to shades of yellow and gold scarred by fiercer blazes of red.

"…I never thought we'd end up here."

She turned to him, surprised at the sound of his voice. "Ichigo?"

He stared at the rooftops below them. "I've seen…done…a lot of things I never thought I could. Things I couldn't even conceive before I became a shinigami. Even after I did…I still couldn't conceive this. There was so much to do…I wouldn't have been able to believe something like this could happen."

"And now?" She asked, her words halting. "Do you believe it now?"

"I don't want to," he whispered, and his eyes darkened.

She dropped her eyes as the fire faded from the clouds. "…But do you?"

He hung his head and was silent. The sky blushed pink, and Rukia pulled her blanket further around herself. At last, Ichigo raised his head to look at her. "People are gonna start wandering around here. We should go."

"No," she said firmly. "I want to stay a bit longer." She turned to look directly at him. "I don't know when…or if…I will be able to come here again."

He flinched at her words, and she felt a little sorry if she had been too harsh. She hadn't meant to. But he didn't move and so she returned to surveying the sky. She sketched the shapes of the clouds in her head, went back over the edges in ink, and then filled them with colour. _Remember them, _she warned herself. She traced the lines of the rooftops, the shadows of the narrow streets, and the occasional smudges of people hidden between them. Again and again she went over everything she could see before her, committing the scene to memory, and all the time knowing she'd have only a faint blur in her mind by the next morning.

"Ok," she said finally, and her voice sounded unnatural after the silence. "Let's go." She held her hand to Ichigo as he stood, and he pulled her up with him, holding one arm around her waist to keep her steady. A northerly breeze blew leisurely by them, and he suddenly felt chilled to his core. He shivered. Rukia quietly leant forward and rested her head on his chest. Surprised but touched by the gesture, Ichigo smiled. He wrapped his arm round her shoulders and hugged her to him.

Byakuya stood at the entrance to the courtyard and watched them silently. Thin lines of golden, early morning light edged their half-silhouettes against the awakening sky. They stood together for a long time. Too long, Byakuya thought, but someone's voice murmured softly in his mind, and against his better judgement, he turned and left.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Wow, that was one reaaallly long scene with not much else. :/ __So, I hope that was ok. Please do tell me if it wasn't, what mistakes there were, what you liked/didn't like/want to see etc. And also if you want to request a particular one shot. Thanks for reading! x_


End file.
